-clad Padris preached and
fought all over Sumatra till the Dutch shook in their shoes." Only he
did not say "shook" and "shoes" but the above paraphrase conveys well
enough his contemptuous meaning. Lingard tried now to remember and piece
together the practical bits of old Jorgenson's amazing tales; but all
that had remained with him was an approximate idea of the locality and
a very strong but confused notion of the dangerous nature of its
approaches. He hesitated, and the brig, answering in her movements to
the state of the man's mind, lingered on the road, seemed to hesitate
also, swinging this way and that on the days of calm.

It was just because of that hesitation that a big New York ship, loaded
with oil in cases for Japan, and passing through the Billiton passage,
sighted one morning a very smart brig being hove-to right in the
fair-way and a little to the east of Carimata. The lank skipper, in a
frock-coat, and the big mate with heavy moustaches, judged her almost
too pretty for a Britisher, and wondered at the man on board laying his
topsail to the mast for no reason that they could see. The big ship's
sails fanned her along, flapping in the light air, and when the brig was
last seen far astern she had still her mainyard aback as if waiting for
someone. But when, next day, a London tea-clipper passed on the same
track, she saw no pretty brig hesitating, all white and still at the
parting of the ways. All that night Lingard had talked with Hassim while
the stars streamed from east to west like an immense river of sparks
above their heads. Immada listened, sometimes exclaiming low, sometimes
holding her breath. She clapped her hands once. A faint dawn appeared.

"You shall be treated like my father in the country," Hassim was saying.
A heavy dew dripped off the rigging and the darkened sails were black
on the pale azure of the sky. "You shall be the father who advises for
good--"

"I shall be a steady friend, and as a friend I want to be treated--no
more," said Lingard. "Take back your ring."

"Why do you scorn my gift?" asked Hassim, with a sad and ironic smile.

"Take it," said Lingard. "It is still mine. How can I forget that, when
facing death, you thought of my safety? There are many dangers before
us. We shall be often separated--to work better for the same end. If
ever you and Immada need help at once and I am within reach, send me a
message with this ring and if I am alive I will not fail you." He lo