It appears that he stayed with
a Dutch government doctor in Amboyna, a friend of his who looked after
him for a bit in his bungalow. He became visible again rather suddenly,
his eyes sunk in his head, and with a sort of guarded attitude, as if
afraid someone would reproach him with the death of Morrison.
Naive Heyst! As if anybody would . . . Nobody amongst us had any
interest in men who went home. They were all right; they did not count
any more. Going to Europe was nearly as final as going to Heaven. It
removed a man from the world of hazard and adventure.
As a matter of fact, many of us did not hear of this death till months
afterwards--from Schomberg, who disliked Heyst gratuitously and made up
a piece of sinister whispered gossip:
"That's what comes of having anything to do with that fellow. He
squeezes you dry like a lemon, then chucks you out--sends you home to
die. Take warning by Morrison!"
Of course, we laughed at the innkeeper's suggestions of black mystery.
Several of us heard that Heyst was prepared to go to Europe himself,
to push on his coal enterprise personally; but he never went. It wasn't
necessary. The company was formed without him, and his nomination of
manager in the tropics came out to him by post.
From the first he had selected Samburan, or Round Island, for the
central station. Some copies of the prospectus issued in Europe, having
found their way out East, were passed from hand to hand.
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