"This matter's--We'll let you in,
presently. Lend me some coolies here, while we turn your dinner into my
banquet. Eh? You don't care? Once in a bloomin' lifetime."
With a seafaring bellow, he helped Rudolph to hail the servants'
quarters. A pair of cooks, a pair of Number Twos, and all the
"learn-pidgin" youngsters of two households came shuffling into the
court; and arriving guests found all hands broaching cargo, in a loud
confusion of orders and miscomprehension.
The captain's dinner was the more brilliant. Throughout the long, white
room, in the slow breeze of the punkah, scores of candles burned soft
and tremulous, as though the old days had returned when the brown
sisters lighted their refectory; but never had their table seen such
profusion of viands, or of talk and laughter. The Saigon stores--after
daily fare--seemed of a strange and Corinthian luxury. The captain's
wine proved excellent. And his ruddy little face, beaming at the head of
the table, wore an extravagant, infectious grin. His quick blue eyes
danced with the light of some ineffable joke. He seemed a conjurer,
creating banquets for sheer mischief in the wilderness.
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