CHAPTER XVI. I wouldn't trust a Malay, not if he were reared in the Vatican. Perceiving he was about to take leave, Kneebone ventured to ask whom he had had the honour of addressing. Was she so fearful still? Roding shrugged and grimaced. Before many minutes elapsed, he had picked a large hole in the plaster, which showered down in a cloud of dust; and breaking off several laths, caught hold of a beam, by which he held with one hand, until with the other he succeeded, not without some difficulty, in forcing out one of the tiles. ’ Obediently, Gerald rose and walked to the other end of the parlour.
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