arrives and departs, goes on somewhere. Heyst did not depart. I met a
man once--the manager of the branch of the Oriental Banking Corporation
in Malacca--to whom Heyst exclaimed, in no connection with anything in
particular (it was in the billiard-room of the club):

"I am enchanted with these islands!"

He shot it out suddenly, a propos des bottes, as the French say, and
while chalking his cue. And perhaps it was some sort of enchantment.
There are more spells than your commonplace magicians ever dreamed of.

Roughly speaking, a circle with a radius of eight hundred miles drawn
round a point in North Borneo was in Heyst's case a magic circle. It
just touched Manila, and he had been seen there. It just touched Saigon,
and he was likewise seen there once. Perhaps these were his attempts to
break out. If so, they were failures. The enchantment must have been
an unbreakable one. The manager--the man who heard the exclamation--had
been so impressed by the tone, fervour, rapture, what you will, or
perhaps by the incongruity of it that he had related the experience to
more than one person.

"Queer chap, that Swede," was his only comment; but this is the origin
of the name "Enchanted Heyst" which some fellows fastened on our man.

He also had other names. In his early years, long before he got so
becomingly bald on the top, he went to present a letter of introduction
to Mr. Tesman of Tesman Brothers, a Sourabaya firm--tip-top house. Well,
Mr. Tesman was a kindly, benevolent old gentleman. He did not know what
to make of that caller. After telling him that they wished to render his
stay among the islands as pleasant as possible, and that they were