e?”

“They’d pitch me overboard,” said Long, dolefully.

“Not they,” said Bob. “This promising young officer, who had taken it into his head that he had been wounded by a poisoned kris, was buried under a palm tree, to the great relief of all who knew him, for they found him the most conceited—”

“Bob Roberts!”

“Consequential—”

“I tell you what it is—”

“Cocky—”

“I never heard—”

“Unpleasant fellow that ever wore Her Majesty’s uniform.”

“Just wait till I get well, Master Bob Roberts,” said Tom Long, excitedly, “and if I don’t make you pay for all this, my name’s not what it is.”

“Thought you had made up your mind to die,” said Bob, laughing. “There, it won’t do, young man; so now go to sleep. I’ve got another half-hour, and I’ll sit here and keep the flies from visiting your noble corpus too roughly; and when you wake up, if you find I am not here it is because I am gone. D’ye hear?”

“Yes,” said Tom Long, drowsily; and in five minutes he was fast asleep, seeing which Bob sat till the last minute, and then went out on tiptoe to run and learn whether the boat was waiting by the landing-stage.

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