turning unexpectedly upon him in enraged revolt. He
seemed disconcerted, contemptuously angry yet somewhat amused; and also
a little hurt as if at some bitter jest at his own expense. Almayer
stopped suddenly, and crossing his arms on his breast, bent his body
forward and went on speaking.

"I might have been left then in an awkward hole--all on account of your
absurd disregard for your safety--yet I bore no grudge. I knew your
weaknesses. But now--when I think of it! Now we are ruined. Ruined!
Ruined! My poor little Nina. Ruined!"

He slapped his thighs smartly, walked with small steps this way and
that, seized a chair, planted it with a bang before Lingard, and sat
down staring at the old seaman with haggard eyes. Lingard, returning his
stare steadily, dived slowly into various pockets, fished out at last a
box of matches and proceeded to light his cheroot carefully, rolling it
round and round between his lips, without taking his gaze for a moment
off the distressed Almayer. Then from behind a cloud of tobacco smoke he
said calmly--

"If you had been in trouble as often as I have, my boy, you wouldn't
carry on so. I have been ruined more than once. Well, here I am."

"Yes, here you are," interrupted Almayer. "Much good it is to me. Had
you been here a month ago it would have been of some use. But now! . .
You might as well be a thousand miles off."

"You scold like a drunken fish-wife," said Lingard, serenely. He got up
and moved slowly to the front rail of the verandah. The floor shook and
the whole house vibrated under his heavy step. For a moment he stood
with his back to Almayer, looking out on the river and forest of the
east bank, then turned round and gazed mildly down upon him.

"It's very lonely this morning here. Hey?" he said.

Almayer lifted up his head.

"Ah! you notice it--don't you? I should think it is lonely! Yes, Captain
Lingard, your day is over in Sambir. Only a month ago this verandah
would have been full of people coming to greet you. Fellows would be
coming up those steps grinning and salaaming--to you and to me. But our
day is over. And not by my fault either. You can't say that. It's all
the doing of that pet rascal of yours. Ah! He is a beauty! You should
have seen him leading that hellish crowd. You would have been proud of
your old favourite."

"Smart fellow that," muttered Lingard, thoughtfully. Almayer jumped up
with a shriek.

"And that's all you have to say! Smart fellow! O