ped to speak to him,
while passing up the street of the native town. By both of these some
reference had been made to the moon-rise and to 'a precious thing'; and
this was enough to show the White Man that something was to be learned,
seen, or experienced by going to the deserted sailing boat at the rising
of the moon.

The Malays who were with him feared a trap, and implored him not to go
alone; but the White Man did not fancy that treachery was likely just
then, and, in any case, he was anxious for the adventure, and could not
afford to let his people think that he was afraid. The man who, dwelling
alone among Malays in an unsettled country, shows the slightest trace of
fear, signs his own death-warrant. No people are more susceptible to
'bluff,' and, given a truculent bearing, and a sufficiency of bravado, a
coward may pass for a brave man in many a Malay State.

The decks of the boat were wet with dew and drizzle, and she smelt
abominably of ancient fish cargoes which she had carried before she was
beached. A light rain was falling, and the White Man crept along the
side until he reached the stern, which was covered with a roofing of
rotten palm-leaf mats. Through the rents at the stern he could see the
moon rising like a great red ball, throwing a broad wave of dancing
light along the reaches of the river. Then he squatted down, rolled a
cigarette, and awaited developments.

Presently the soft _splish, whisp! splash, whisp!_ of a single paddle
came to his listening ear; and, a moment later, a girl's form, standing
erect on the vessel's side, showed distinctly in the growing moonlight.
She called softly to know if anybody was aboard, and the White Man
answered equally cautiously. She then turned and whispered to some
unseen person in a boat moored alongside, and, after some seconds, she
came towards the White Man and said:

'There is one who would speak with thee, _Tuan_, but he cannot climb up
the ship's side. He is like a dead man--unless one lifts him, how can he
move? Will the _Tuan_, therefore, aid him to ascend into the ship?'

The White Man loosened his pistol in its holster, covertly, that she
might not see, and stepped cautiously to the place where the boat
appeared to be moored, for he, too, began to fear a trap. What he saw
over the side reassured him. The dug-out was of the smallest, and it had
only one occupant. He was a man who, even in the dim moonlight, showed
the sharp angles of his bones. He h