Say, how am dat for high?”
Dr Koomadhi listened while three stanzas of the doggerel were being sung
by Major Minton; then he raised the ear-shaped stone that was in the
hollow of his hand, and whispered some words into it as he had done in
the afternoon. In a second the song stopped, although the singer was in
the middle of a stanza.
“Confound it all!” cried Major Minton--Koomadhi heard his voice
distinctly. “One of my strings is broken. I suppose it was the sudden
change of atmosphere that made it give way. It’s a good bit drier here
than aboard the _Penguin_.”
“The concert is over for to-night,” came the voice of the Commissioner.
“It’s about time for all of us to be in our beds.”
“That’s my notion too,” said Letts. “Those who object can have their
money returned at the doors.”
“It was strange--that breaking of the string without warning,” Dr
Koomadhi heard Gertrude say.
He smiled.
It was only at midnight in the open air, and when he was alone, that he
allowed himself the luxury of an unbridled smile. He knew the weaknesses
of his race.
He put the stone into the pocket of his coat and returned to his house.