ar him."

"What does he say?" inquired Babalatchi, eagerly. "You ought to
understand."

"I have forgotten their talk. A little I understood. He spoke without
any respect of the white ruler in Batavia, and of protection, and said he
had been wronged; he said that several times. More I did not understand.
Listen! Again he speaks!"

"Tse! tse! tse!" clicked Babalatchi, trying to appear shocked, but with a
joyous twinkle of his solitary eye. "There will be great trouble between
those white men. I will go round now and see. You tell your daughter
that there is a sudden and a long journey before her, with much glory and
splendour at the end. And tell her that Dain must go, or he must die,
and that he will not go alone."

"No, he will not go alone," slowly repeated Mrs. Almayer, with a
thoughtful air, as she crept into the passage after seeing Babalatchi
disappear round the corner of the house.

The statesman of Sambir, under the impulse of vivid curiosity, made his
way quickly to the front of the house, but once there he moved slowly and
cautiously as he crept step by step up the stairs of the verandah. On
the highest step he sat down quietly, his feet on the steps below, ready
for flight should his presence prove unwelcome. He felt pretty safe so.
The table stood nearly endways to him, and he saw Almayer's back; at Nina
he looked full face, and had a side view of both officers; but of the
four persons sitting at the table only Nina and the younger officer
noticed his noiseless arrival. The momentary dropping of Nina's eyelids
acknowledged Babalatchi's presence; she then spoke at once to the young
sub, who turned towards her with attentive alacrity, but her gaze was
fastened steadily on her father's face while Almayer was speaking
uproariously.

" . . . disloyalty and unscrupulousness! What have you ever done to make
me loyal? You have no grip on this country. I had to take care of
myself, and when I asked for protection I was met with threats and
contempt, and had Arab slander thrown in my face. I! a white man!"

"Don't be violent, Almayer," remonstrated the lieutenant; "I have heard
all this already."

"Then why do you talk to me about scruples? I wanted money, and I gave
powder in exchange. How could I know that some of your wretched men were
going to be blown up? Scruples! Pah!"

He groped unsteadily amongst the bottles, trying one after another,
grumbling to himself the while.

"No more w