Miss　Moorsom　a　little　in　advance　of　her　aunt。
  When　she　came　abreast　of　him　Renouard　raised　his　head。
  〃Good…bye；　Mr。　Renouard；〃　she　said　in　a　low　voice；　meaning　to　pass
  on；　but　there　was　such　a　look　of　entreaty　in　the　blue　gleam　of　his
  sunken　eyes　that　after　an　imperceptible　hesitation　she　laid　her
  hand；　which　was　ungloved；　in　his　extended　palm。
  〃Will　you　condescend　to　remember　me？〃　he　asked；　while　an　emotion
  with　which　she　was　angry　made　her　pale　cheeks　flush　and　her　black
  eyes　sparkle。
  〃This　is　a　strange　request　for　you　to　make；〃　she　said　exaggerating
  the　coldness　of　her　tone。
  〃Is　it？　　Impudent　perhaps。　　Yet　I　am　not　so　guilty　as　you　think；
  and　bear　in　mind　that　to　me　you　can　never　make　reparation。〃
  〃Reparation？　　To　you！　　It　is　you　who　can　offer　me　no　reparation　for
  the　offence　against　my　feelings　…　and　my　person；　for　what
  reparation　can　be　adequate　for　your　odious　and　ridiculous　plot　so
  scornful　in　its　implication；　so　humiliating　to　my　pride。　　No！　　I
  don't　want　to　remember　you。〃
  Unexpectedly；　with　a　tightening　grip；　he　pulled　her　nearer　to　him；
  and　looking　into　her　eyes　with　fearless　despair　…
  〃You'll　have　to。　　I　shall　haunt　you；〃　he　said　firmly。
  Her　hand　was　wrenched　out　of　his　grasp　before　he　had　time　to
  release　it。　　Felicia　Moorsom　stepped　into　the　boat；　sat　down　by　the
  side　of　her　father；　and　breathed　tenderly　on　her　crushed　fingers。
  The　professor　gave　her　a　sidelong　look　…　nothing　more。　　But　the
  professor's　sister；　yet　on　shore；　had　put　up　her　long…handle　double
  eye…glass　to　look　at　the　scene。　　She　dropped　it　with　a　faint
  rattle。
  〃I've　never　in　my　life　heard　anything　so　crude　said　to　a　lady；〃　she
  murmured；　passing　before　Renouard　with　a　perfectly　erect　head。
  When；　a　moment　afterwards；　softening　suddenly；　she　turned　to　throw
  a　good…bye　to　that　young　man；　she　saw　only　his　back　in　the　distance
  moving　towards　the　bungalow。　　She　watched　him　go　in　…　amazed　…
  before　she　too　left　the　soil　of　Malata。
  Nobody　disturbed　Renouard　in　that　room　where　he　had　shut　himself　in
  to　breathe　the　evanescent　perfume　of　her　who　for　him　was　no　more；
  till　late　in　the　afternoon　when　the　half…caste　was　heard　on　the
  other　side　of　the　door。
  He　wanted　the　master　to　know　that　the　trader　Janet　was　just
  entering　the　cove。
  Renouard's　strong　voice　on　his　side　of　the　door　gave　him　most
  unexpected　instructions。　　He　was　to　pay　off　the　boys　with　the　cash
  in　the　office　and　arrange　with　the　captain　of　the　Janet　to　take
  every　worker　away　from　Malata；　returning　them　to　their　respective
  homes。　　An　order　on　the　Dunster　firm　would　be　given　to　him　in
  payment。
  And　again　the　silence　of　the　bungalow　remained　unbroken　till；　next
  morning；　the　half…caste　came　to　report　that　everything　was　done。
  The　plantation　boys　were　embarking　now。
  Through　a　crack　in　the　door　a　hand　thrust　at　him　a　piece　of　paper；
  and　the　door　slammed　to　so　sharply　that　Luiz　stepped　back。　　Then
  approaching　cringingly　the　keyhole；　in　a　propitiatory　tone　he
  asked：
  〃Do　I　go　too；　master？〃
  〃Yes。　　You　too。　　Everybody。〃
  〃Master　stop　here　alone？〃
  Silence。　　And　the　half…caste's　eyes　grew　wide　with　wonder。　　But　he
  also；　like　those　〃ignorant　savages；〃　the　plantation　boys；　was　only
  too　glad　to　leave　an　island　haunted　by　the　ghost　of　a　white　man。
  He　backed　away　noiselessly　from　the　mysterious　silence　in　the
  closed　room；　and　only　in　the　very　doorway　of　the　bungalow　allowed
  himself　to　give　vent　to　his　feelings　by　a　deprecatory　and　pained　…
  〃Tse！　　Tse！　　Tse！〃
  CHAPTER　XII
  The　Moorsoms　did　manage　to　catch　the　homeward　mail　boat　all　right；
  but　had　only　twenty…four　hours　in　town。　　Thus　the　sentimental
  Willie　could　not　see　very　much　of　them。　　This　did　not　prevent　him
  afterwards　from　relating　at　great　length；　with　manly　tears　in　his
  eyes；　how　poor　Miss　Moorsom　…　the　fashionable　and　clever　beauty　…
  found　her　betrothed　in　Malata　only　to　see　him　die　in　her　arms。
  Most　people　were　deeply　touched　by　the　sad　story。　　It　was　the　talk
  of　a　good　many　days。
  But　the　all…knowing　Editor；　Renouard's　only　friend　and　crony；
  wanted　to　know　more　than　the　rest　of　the　world。　　From　professional
  incontinence；　perhaps；　he　thirsted　for　a　full　cup　of　harrowing
  detail。　　And　when　he　noticed　Renouard's　schooner　lying　in　port　day
  after　day　he　sought　the　sailing　master　to　learn　the　reason。　　The
  man　told　him　that　such　were　his　instructions。　　He　had　been　ordered
  to　lie　there　a　month　before　returning　to　Malata。　　And　the　month　was
  nearly　up。　　〃I　will　ask　you　to　give　me　a　passage；〃　said　the　Editor。
  He　landed　in　the　morning　at　the　bottom　of　the　garden　and　found
  peace；　stillness；　sunshine　reigning　everywhere；　the　doors　and
  windows　of　the　bungalow　standing　wide　open；　no　sight　of　a　human
  being　anywhere；　the　plants　growing　rank　and　tall　on　the　deserted
  fields。　　For　hours　the　Editor　and　the　schooner's　crew；　excited　by
  the　mystery；　roamed　over　the　island　shouting　Renouard's　name；　and
  at　last　set　themselves　in　grim　silence　to　explore　systematically
  the　uncleared　bush　and　the　deeper　ravines　in　search　of　his　corpse。
  What　had　happened？　　Had　he　been　murdered　by　the　boys？　　Or　had　he
  simply；　capricious　and　secretive；　abandoned　his　plantation　taking
  the　people　with　him。　　It　was　impossible　to　tell　what　had　happened。
  At　last；　towards　the　decline　of　the　day；　the　Editor　and　the　sailing
  master　discovered　a　track　of　sandals　crossing　a　strip　of　sandy
  beach　on　the　north　shore　of　the　bay。　　Following　this　track
  fearfully；　they　passed　round　the　spur　of　the　headland；　and　there　on
  a　large　stone　found　the　sandals；　Renouard's　white　jacket；　and　the
  Malay　sarong　of　chequered　pattern　which　the　planter　of　Malata　was
  well　known　to　wear　when　going　to　bathe。　　These　things　made　a　little
  heap；　and　the　sailor　remarked；　after　gazing　at　it　in　silence　…
  〃Birds　have　been　hovering　over　this　for　many　a　day。〃
  〃He's　gone　bathing　and　got　drowned；〃　cried　the　Editor　in　dismay。
  〃I　doubt　it；　sir。　　If　he　had　been　drowned　anywhere　within　a　mile
  from　the　shore　the　body　would　have　been　washed　out　on　the　reefs。
  And　our　boats　have　found　nothing　so　far。〃
  Nothing　was　ever　found　…　and　Renouard's　disappearance　remained　in
  the　main　inexplicable。　　For　to　whom　could　it　have　occurred　that　a
  man　would　set　out　calmly　to　swim　beyond　the　confines　of　life　…　with
  a　steady　stroke　…　his　eyes　fixed　on　a　star！
  Next　evening；　from　the　receding　schooner；　the　Editor　looked　back
  for　the　last　time　at　the　deserted　island。　　A　black　cloud　hung
  listlessly　over　the　high　rock　on　the　middle　hill；　and　under　the
  mysterious　silence　of　that　shadow　Malata　lay　mournful；　with　an　air
  of　anguish　in　the　wild　sunset；　as　if　remembering　the　heart　that　was
  broken　there。
  Dec。　1913。
  THE　PARTNER
  〃And　that　be　hanged　for　a　silly　yarn。　　The　boatmen　here　in　Westport
  have　been　telling　this　lie　to　the　summer　visitors　for　years。　　The
  sort　that　gets　taken　out　for　a　row　at　a　shilling　a　head　…　and　asks
  foolish　questions　…　must　be　told　something　to　pass　the　time　away。
  D'ye　know　anything　more　silly　than　being　pulled　in　a　boat　along　a
  beach？　。　。　。　It's　like　drinking　weak　lemonade　when　you　aren't
  thirsty。　　I　don't　know　why　they　do　it！　　They　don't　even　get　sick。〃
  A　forgotten　glass　of　beer　stood　at　his　elbow；　the　locality　was　a
  small　respectable　smoking…room　of　a　small　respectable　hotel；　and　a
  taste　for　forming　chance　acquaintances　accounts　for　my　sitting　up
  late　with　him。　　His　great；　flat；　furrowed　cheeks　were　shaven；　a
  thick；　square　wisp　of　white　hairs　hung　from　his　chin；　its　waggling
  gave　additional　point　to　his　deep　utterance；　and　his　general
  contempt　for　mankind　with　its　activities　and　moralities　was
  expressed　in　the　rakish　set　of　his　big　soft　hat　of　black　felt　with
  a　large　rim；　which　he　kept　always　on　his　head。
  His　appearance　was　that　of　an　old　adventurer；　retired　after　many
  unholy　experiences　in　the　darkest　parts　of　the　earth；　but　I　had
  every　reason　to　believe　that　he　had　never　been　outside　England。
  From　a　casual　remark　somebody　dropped　I　gathered　that　in　his　early
  days　he　must　have　been　somehow　connected　with　shipping　…　with　ships
  in　docks。　　Of　individuality　he　had　plenty。　　And　it　was　this　which
  attracted　my　attention　at　first。　　But　he　was　not　easy　to　classify；
  and　before　the　end　of　the　week　I　gave　him　up　with　the　vague
  definition；　〃an　imposing　old　ruffian。〃
  One　rainy　afternoon；　oppressed　by　infinite　boredom；　I　went　into　the
  smoking…room。　　He　was　sitting　there　in　absolute　immobility；　which
  was　really　fakir…l