Dain off to-night in a canoe, by the hidden channels, on board the prau.
His father is a great prince, and shall hear of our generosity. Let the
prau take him to Ampanam. Your glory shall be great, and your reward in
powerful friendship. Almayer will no doubt deliver the dead body as
Dain's to the officers, and the foolish white men shall say, 'This is
very good; let there be peace.' And the trouble shall be removed from
your heart, Rajah."

"True! true!" said Lakamba.

"And, this being accomplished by me who am your slave, you shall reward
with a generous hand. That I know! The white man is grieving for the
lost treasure, in the manner of white men who thirst after dollars. Now,
when all other things are in order, we shall perhaps obtain the treasure
from the white man. Dain must escape, and Almayer must live."

"Now go, Babalatchi, go!" said Lakamba, getting off his chair. "I am
very sick, and want medicine. Tell the white chief so."

But Babalatchi was not to be got rid of in this summary manner. He knew
that his master, after the manner of the great, liked to shift the burden
of toil and danger on to his servants' shoulders, but in the difficult
straits in which they were now the Rajah must play his part. He may be
very sick for the white men, for all the world if he liked, as long as he
would take upon himself the execution of part at least of Babalatchi's
carefully thought-of plan. Babalatchi wanted a big canoe manned by
twelve men to be sent out after dark towards Bulangi's clearing. Dain
may have to be overpowered. A man in love cannot be expected to see
clearly the path of safety if it leads him away from the object of his
affections, argued Babalatchi, and in that case they would have to use
force in order to make him go. Would the Rajah see that trusty men
manned the canoe? The thing must be done secretly. Perhaps the Rajah
would come himself, so as to bring all the weight of his authority to
bear upon Dain if he should prove obstinate and refuse to leave his
hiding-place. The Rajah would not commit himself to a definite promise,
and anxiously pressed Babalatchi to go, being afraid of the white men
paying him an unexpected visit. The aged statesman reluctantly took his
leave and went into the courtyard.

Before going down to his boat Babalatchi stopped for a while in the big
open space where the thick-leaved trees put black patches of shadow which
seemed to float on a flood of smooth,