OF THE SOUTH SEAS 523 



few months, and have n't heard the news. Has David 

 run off with Miri or Carohne?" 



Was this what Lovaina was bursting with? 

 They all remained quiet, until McHenry, with an 

 oath, blurted out: 



"What the hell 's the good of all this bloody silence? 

 He 's been away and don't know." Then turning to 

 me, he slapped me on the shoulder and bawled: 



"We '11 have a drink on you, O'Brien! David blew 

 his brains out on Llewellyn's doorstep just after we 

 left for the Marquesas. Joseph, bring one all around!" 



As if at his word Llewellyn came up the stairs. His 

 countenance was blacker than usual, his eyes more than 

 half closed under their clouds of brows. His shoulders 

 drooped, and he thumped his stick on the floor of the 

 club as he came toward us. I felt certain that he de- 

 tected something in the air — a sudden cessation of talk 

 or a strained attitude on our part. He drooped heavily 

 into a chair, and banged his stick on his chair-leg. 



"Joseph," he called, "give me a Doctor Funk. 

 Quick! No, make it straight absinthe." 



Our own drinks were coming by now, and as the 

 steward stirred about, Llewellyn for the first time saw 

 me. 



"Hello! Where did you come from? I thought you 

 had gone back to the States." 



"I 've been past the isthmus," I replied, "and I 

 have n't seen a soul or heard a word in that time. 

 What 's this terrible thing about young David?" 



Llewellyn's arm jerked convulsively toward his body 

 and knocked his glass from the table. 



