"I am indeed fortunate," came in a thin, reed-like voice, "I am indeed
fortunate in having found so brave a preserver. Honorable sir, from this
moment my life is yours."
"Why, you speak perfect English," I said in amazement.
"I have been resident in this country for some time, sir," he replied,
"as a student at King's College, until I undertook my present work."
"Well," I said, "we'd better not stand here exchanging polite remarks
much longer. There is such a thing as pneumonia, which you would do well
to avoid. If you're strong enough, we'll hurry up to the terrace and
find my house, where we'll get you dry and warm. I'm the landlord of
the 'Golden Swan' Hotel."
He was a polite fellow, this. He bowed profoundly, and then, as the
water dripped from his black and meager form, he said something rather
extraordinary.
"I should never have thought it."
I cursed myself. The excitement had made me return to the manner of
Piccadilly, and this shrewd observer had seen it in a moment. I said no
more, but took him by the arm and yanked him along for one of the
fastest miles he had ever done in his life.
I took him to the side door of my pub. Fortunately Ah Sing was
descending the stairs to replenish an empty decanter with whisky--my
yellow gentlemen used to like it in their tea! I explained what had
happened in a few words and my shivering derelict was hurried upstairs
to my own bedroom. I don't know what Rolston did to him, though I heard
Sliddim--now quite the house cat--directed to run down into the kitchen
and confer with Mrs. Abbs.
For my part, I sat in the room behind the bar, listening to the Honest
Fool talking with my patrons, and shed my clothes before a blazing fire.
A little hot rum, a change, and a dressing-gown, and I was myself again,
and smoking a pipe I fell into a sort of dream.
It was a pleasant dream. I suppose the shock of the swim, the race up
the terrace to the "Swan," the rum and milk which followed had a
soporific, soothing effect. I wasn't exactly asleep, I was pleasantly
drowsed, and I had a sort of feeling that something was going to happen.
Just about closing time Rolston glided in--I never saw a European
before or since who could so perfectly imitate the ghost walk of the
yellow men.