akamba when he opens his eyes.
I must bow before Abdulla who has strength--even more strength than you.
Now if you remain here, you shall easily behold the man who boasted to
Abdulla that he had been your friend, even while he prepared to fight
those who called you protector. Yes, he plotted with Abdulla for that
cursed flag. Lakamba was blind then, and I was deceived. But you, Tuan!
Remember, he deceived you more. Of that he boasted before all men."

He leaned the gun quietly against the wall close to the window, and said
softly: "Shall I go now, Tuan? Be careful of the gun. I have put the
fire-stone in. The fire-stone of the wise man, which never fails."

Lingard's eyes were fastened on the distant doorway. Across his line
of sight, in the grey emptiness of the courtyard, a big fruit-pigeon
flapped languidly towards the forests with a loud booming cry, like
the note of a deep gong: a brilliant bird looking in the gloom of
threatening day as black as a crow. A serried flock of white rice birds
rose above the trees with a faint scream, and hovered, swaying in a
disordered mass that suddenly scattered in all directions, as if burst
asunder by a silent explosion. Behind his back Lingard heard a shuffle
of feet--women leaving the hut. In the other courtyard a voice was heard
complaining of cold, and coming very feeble, but exceedingly distinct,
out of the vast silence of the abandoned houses and clearings.
Babalatchi coughed discreetly. From under the house the thumping of
wooden pestles husking the rice started with unexpected abruptness. The
weak but clear voice in the yard again urged, "Blow up the embers, O
brother!" Another voice answered, drawling in modulated, thin sing-song,
"Do it yourself, O shivering pig!" and the drawl of the last words
stopped short, as if the man had fallen into a deep hole. Babalatchi
coughed again a little impatiently, and said in a confidential tone--

"Do you think it is time for me to go, Tuan? Will you take care of my
gun, Tuan? I am a man that knows how to obey; even obey Abdulla, who has
deceived me. Nevertheless this gun carries far and true--if you would
want to know, Tuan. And I have put in a double measure of powder, and
three slugs. Yes, Tuan. Now--perhaps--I go."

When Babalatchi commenced speaking, Lingard turned slowly round and
gazed upon him with the dull and unwilling look of a sick man waking to
another day of suffering. As the astute statesman proceeded, Lingard's
eyeb