intense light that rolled up to the
houses and down to the stockade and over the river, where it broke and
sparkled in thousands of glittering wavelets, like a band woven of azure
and gold edged with the brilliant green of the forests guarding both
banks of the Pantai. In the perfect calm before the coming of the
afternoon breeze the irregularly jagged line of tree-tops stood
unchanging, as if traced by an unsteady hand on the clear blue of the hot
sky. In the space sheltered by the high palisades there lingered the
smell of decaying blossoms from the surrounding forest, a taint of drying
fish; with now and then a whiff of acrid smoke from the cooking fires
when it eddied down from under the leafy boughs and clung lazily about
the burnt-up grass.

As Babalatchi looked up at the flagstaff over-topping a group of low
trees in the middle of the courtyard, the tricolour flag of the
Netherlands stirred slightly for the first time since it had been hoisted
that morning on the arrival of the man-of-war boats. With a faint rustle
of trees the breeze came down in light puffs, playing capriciously for a
time with this emblem of Lakamba's power, that was also the mark of his
servitude; then the breeze freshened in a sharp gust of wind, and the
flag flew out straight and steady above the trees. A dark shadow ran
along the river, rolling over and covering up the sparkle of declining
sunlight. A big white cloud sailed slowly across the darkening sky, and
hung to the westward as if waiting for the sun to join it there. Men and
things shook off the torpor of the hot afternoon and stirred into life
under the first breath of the sea breeze.

Babalatchi hurried down to the water-gate; yet before he passed through
it he paused to look round the courtyard, with its light and shade, with
its cheery fires, with the groups of Lakamba's soldiers and retainers
scattered about. His own house stood amongst the other buildings in that
enclosure, and the statesman of Sambir asked himself with a sinking heart
when and how would it be given him to return to that house. He had to
deal with a man more dangerous than any wild beast of his experience: a
proud man, a man wilful after the manner of princes, a man in love. And
he was going forth to speak to that man words of cold and worldly wisdom.
Could anything be more appalling? What if that man should take umbrage
at some fancied slight to his honour or disregard of his affections and
suddenl