ears, too, and--"

He went forward and the end of his sentence was lost in an indistinct
growl. Lingard stood attentive. One by one the three seacannies off duty
appeared on the poop and busied themselves around a big chest that stood
by the side of the cabin companion. A rattle and clink of steel weapons
turned out on the deck was heard, but the men did not even whisper.
Lingard peered steadily into the night, then shook his head.

"Serang!" he called, half aloud.

The spare old man ran up the ladder so smartly that his bony feet did
not seem to touch the steps. He stood by his commander, his hands behind
his back; a figure indistinct but straight as an arrow.

"Who was looking out?" asked Lingard.

"Badroon, the Bugis," said Wasub, in his crisp, jerky manner.

"I can hear nothing. Badroon heard the noise in his mind."

"The night hides the boat."

"Have you seen it?"

"Yes, Tuan. Small boat. Before sunset. By the land. Now coming
here--near. Badroon heard him."

"Why didn't you report it, then?" asked Lingard, sharply.

"Malim spoke. He said: 'Nothing there,' while I could see. How could I
know what was in his mind or yours, Tuan?"

"Do you hear anything now?"

"No. They stopped now. Perhaps lost the ship--who knows? Perhaps
afraid--"

"Well!" muttered Lingard, moving his feet uneasily. "I believe you lie.
What kind of boat?"

"White men's boat. A four-men boat, I think. Small. Tuan, I hear him
now! There!"

He stretched his arm straight out, pointing abeam for a time, then his
arm fell slowly.

"Coming this way," he added with decision.

From forward Shaw called out in a startled tone:

"Something on the water, sir! Broad on this bow!"

"All right!" called back Lingard.

A lump of blacker darkness floated into his view. From it came over the
water English words--deliberate, reaching him one by one; as if each had
made its own difficult way through the profound stillness of the night.

"What--ship--is--that--pray?"

"English brig," answered Lingard, after a short moment of hesitation.

"A brig! I thought you were something bigger," went on the voice from
the sea with a tinge of disappointment in its deliberate tone. "I am
coming alongside--if--you--please."

"No! you don't!" called Lingard back, sharply. The leisurely drawl of
the invisible speaker seemed to him offensive, and woke up a hostile
feeling. "No! you don't if you care for your boat. Where do you spring
from? Who are you--an