no lights. The plantation seemed to sleep, as profoundly as the
schooner. On the path a small shell cracked under his naked heel.

The faithful half-caste foreman going his rounds cocked his ears at
the sharp sound. He gave one enormous start of fear at the sight
of the swift white figure flying at him out of the night. He
crouched in terror, and then sprang up and clicked his tongue in
amazed recognition.

"Tse! Tse! The master!"

"Be quiet, Luiz, and listen to what I say."

Yes, it was the master, the strong master who was never known to
raise his voice, the man blindly obeyed and never questioned. He
talked low and rapidly in the quiet night, as if every minute were
precious. On learning that three guests were coming to stay Luiz
clicked his tongue rapidly. These clicks were the uniform,
stenographic symbols of his emotions, and he could give them an
infinite variety of meaning. He listened to the rest in a deep
silence hardly affected by the low, "Yes, master," whenever
Renouard paused.

"You understand?" the latter insisted. "No preparations are to be
made till we land in the morning. And you are to say that Mr.
Walter has gone off in a trading schooner on a round of the
islands."

"Yes, master."