kly away from the bushes, looking to the right and left
watchfully. She went straight towards the cooking-shed, observing that
the embers of the fire there glowed more brightly than usual, as if
somebody had been adding fresh fuel to the fires during the evening. As
she approached, Babalatchi, who had been squatting in the warm glow, rose
and met her in the shadow outside.

"Is she gone?" asked the anxious statesman, hastily.

"Yes," answered Mrs. Almayer. "What are the white men doing? When did
you leave them?"

"They are sleeping now, I think. May they never wake!" exclaimed
Babalatchi, fervently. "Oh! but they are devils, and made much talk and
trouble over that carcase. The chief threatened me twice with his hand,
and said he would have me tied up to a tree. Tie me up to a tree! Me!"
he repeated, striking his breast violently.

Mrs. Almayer laughed tauntingly.

"And you salaamed and asked for mercy. Men with arms by their side acted
otherwise when I was young."

"And where are they, the men of your youth? You mad woman!" retorted
Babalatchi, angrily. "Killed by the Dutch. Aha! But I shall live to
deceive them. A man knows when to fight and when to tell peaceful lies.
You would know that if you were not a woman."

But Mrs. Almayer did not seem to hear him. With bent body and
outstretched arm she appeared to be listening to some noise behind the
shed.

"There are strange sounds," she whispered, with evident alarm. "I have
heard in the air the sounds of grief, as of a sigh and weeping. That was
by the riverside. And now again I heard--"

"Where?" asked Babalatchi, in an altered voice. "What did you hear?"

"Close here. It was like a breath long drawn. I wish I had burnt the
paper over the body before it was buried."

"Yes," assented Babalatchi. "But the white men had him thrown into a
hole at once. You know he found his death on the river," he added
cheerfully, "and his ghost may hail the canoes, but would leave the land
alone."

Mrs. Almayer, who had been craning her neck to look round the corner of
the shed, drew back her head.

"There is nobody there," she said, reassured. "Is it not time for the
Rajah war-canoe to go to the clearing?"

"I have been waiting for it here, for I myself must go," explained
Babalatchi. "I think I will go over and see what makes them late. When
will you come? The Rajah gives you refuge."

"I shall paddle over before the break of day. I canno