"Take a drop of brandy before we start, watchman," said Wood, pouring out a glass of spirit, and presenting it to Terence, who smacked his lips as he disposed of it. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. It is to take place to-night. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. "I wonder how she picked up Kanaka? On her island they don't talk Kanaka lingo. I have come to take you home; and hereafter my word will be the law. “Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites.
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