"It doesn't look as if they are going to put in an appearance to-night,"
he said to himself, as the liquor in the glass began to wane. "Can this
letter have been a hoax, an attempt to draw me off the scent? If so, by
all the gods in Asia, they may rest assured I'll be even with them."

He looked as though he meant it!

At last he rose, and having returned his glass to the bar, donned his
_topee_, left the hotel, and went for a stroll. It was but a short
distance to the harbour, and he presently found himself strolling along
the several miles of what I have already described as the most wonderful
shipping in the world. To Mr. Hayle the scene was too familiar to call
for comment. He had seen it on many occasions, and under a variety of
auspices. He had witnessed it as a deck-hand and as a saloon passenger;
as a steerage passenger, and in the humble capacity of a stowaway. Now
he was regarding it as a gentleman of leisure, who smoked a cigar that
had been paid for, and round whose waist was a belt with gold in it.
Knowing the spot where the British India boats from Calcutta usually
lie, he made his way to it, and inquired for a certain vessel. She had
not yet arrived, he was informed, and no one seemed to know when she
might be expected. At last, tired of his occupation, he returned to his
hotel, and in due course sat down to supper. He smoked another cigar in
the verandah afterwards, and was on the point of retiring for the night,
when two men suddenly made their appearance before him, and accosted him
by name. He immediately sprang to his feet with a cry of welcome.

"I had made up my mind that you were not coming," he said as they shook
hands.