ng Mirrah. It was the sail of the prau
that had caught the sunlight and stood out, distinct with its gay tint,
on the dark red of the cape. The yellow triangle crept slowly from cliff
to cliff, till it cleared the last point of land and shone brilliantly
for a fleeting minute on the blue of the open sea. Then the prau bore up
to the southward: the light went out of the sail, and all at once the
vessel itself disappeared, vanishing in the shadow of the steep headland
that looked on, patient and lonely, watching over the empty sea.

Almayer never moved. Round the little islet the air was full of the talk
of the rippling water. The crested wavelets ran up the beach
audaciously, joyously, with the lightness of young life, and died
quickly, unresistingly, and graciously, in the wide curves of transparent
foam on the yellow sand. Above, the white clouds sailed rapidly
southwards as if intent upon overtaking something. Ali seemed anxious.

"Master," he said timidly, "time to get house now. Long way off to pull.
All ready, sir."

"Wait," whispered Almayer.

Now she was gone his business was to forget, and he had a strange notion
that it should be done systematically and in order. To Ali's great
dismay he fell on his hands and knees, and, creeping along the sand,
erased carefully with his hand all traces of Nina's footsteps. He piled
up small heaps of sand, leaving behind him a line of miniature graves
right down to the water. After burying the last slight imprint of Nina's
slipper he stood up, and, turning his face towards the headland where he
had last seen the prau, he made an effort to shout out loud again his
firm resolve to never forgive. Ali watching him uneasily saw only his
lips move, but heard no sound. He brought his foot down with a stamp. He
was a firm man--firm as a rock. Let her go. He never had a daughter. He
would forget. He was forgetting already.

Ali approached him again, insisting on immediate departure, and this time
he consented, and they went together towards their canoe, Almayer
leading. For all his firmness he looked very dejected and feeble as he
dragged his feet slowly through the sand on the beach; and by his
side--invisible to Ali--stalked that particular fiend whose mission it is
to jog the memories of men, lest they should forget the meaning of life.
He whispered into Almayer's ear a childish prattle of many years ago.
Almayer, his head bent on one side, seemed to listen to