Meanwhile Mr. Kitwater, for such was the name of the gentleman he had just left, had begun his preparations for the night, vigorously cursing the mosquitoes as he did so.  He was a fine-looking man, with a powerful, though somewhat humorous cast of countenance.  His eyes were large, and not unkindly.  His head was a good one from a phrenological point of view, but was marred by the possession of enormous ears which stood out on either side of his head like those of a bat.  He wore a close-cropped beard, and he was famous for his strength, which indeed was that of a giant.

“Hayle, if I can sum it up aright, is just the same as ever,” he said as he arranged the mosquito-netting of his bed.  “He doesn’t trust me, and I don’t trust him.  But he’ll be none the less useful for that.  Let him try to play me false, and by the Lord Harry, he’ll not live to do it again.”

With this amiable sentiment Mr. Kitwater prepared himself for slumber.

Then, upon the three worthies the hot, tropical night settled down.

Next morning they met at breakfast.  All three were somewhat silent.  It was as if the weight of the matter which was that day to be discussed pressed upon their spirits.  The smallest of the trio, Septimus Codd by name, who was habitually taciturn, spoke scarcely a word.  He was a strange little man, a nineteenth century villain in a sense.  He was a rogue and a vagabond, yet his one hobby, apart from his business, was a study of the Past, and many an authority on Eastern History would have been astonished at the extent of his learning.  He was never so happy as when burrowing amongst ancient records, and it was mainly due to his learning in the first place, and to a somewhat singular accident in the second, that the trio were now foregathered in Singapore.  His personal appearance was a peculiar one.  His height was scarcely more than four feet six inches.  His face was round, and at a distance appeared almost boyish.  It was only when one came to look into it more closely, that it was seen to be scored by numberless small lines.  Moreover it was unadorned by either beard or moustache.  His hair was grey, and was worn somewhat longer than is usual.  He could speak fluently almost every language of the East, and had been imprisoned by the Russians for sealing in prohibited waters, had been tortured by the Chinese on the Yang-tse, and, to his own unextinguishable disgrace, flogged by the French in Tonquin.  Not the least curious trait in his character was the affection he entertained for Kitwater.  The pair had been together for years, had quarrelled repeatedly, but had never separated.  The record of their doings would form an interesting book, but for want of space cannot be more than referred to here.  Hayle had been their partner in not a few of their curious undertakings, for his courage and resource made him a valuable ally, though how far they trusted each other it is impossible to say.

Breakfast over they adjourned to the verandah, where the inevitable cigars made their appearance.