e in the droop of their leafy and soaring heads.

The steersman, pointing with his paddle, said, "Arsat is there. I see
his canoe fast between the piles."

The polers ran along the sides of the boat glancing over their shoulders
at the end of the day's journey. They would have preferred to spend the
night somewhere else than on this lagoon of weird aspect and ghostly
reputation. Moreover, they disliked Arsat, first as a stranger, and also
because he who repairs a ruined house, and dwells in it, proclaims
that he is not afraid to live amongst the spirits that haunt the places
abandoned by mankind. Such a man can disturb the course of fate by
glances or words; while his familiar ghosts are not easy to propitiate
by casual wayfarers upon whom they long to wreak the malice of their
human master. White men care not for such things, being unbelievers and
in league with the Father of Evil, who leads them unharmed through the
invisible dangers of this world. To the warnings of the righteous they
oppose an offensive pretence of disbelief. What is there to be done?

So they thought, throwing their weight on the end of their long poles.
The big canoe glided on swiftly, noiselessly, and smoothly, towards
Arsat's clearing, till, in a great rattling of poles thrown down, and
the loud murmurs of "Allah be praised!" it came with a gentle knock
against the crooked piles below the house.

The boatmen with uplifted faces shouted discordantly, "Arsat! O Arsat!"
Nobody came. The white man began to climb the rude ladder giving access
to the bamboo platform before the house. The juragan of the boat said
sulkily, "We will cook in the sampan, and sleep on the water."

"Pass my blankets and the basket," said the white man, curtly.

He knelt on the edge of the platform to receive the bundle. Then the
boat shoved off, and the white man, standing up, confronted Arsat,
who had come out through the low door of his hut. He was a man young,
powerful, with broad chest and muscular arms. He had nothing on but
his sarong. His head was bare. His big, soft eyes stared eagerly at
the white man, but his voice and demeanour were composed as he asked,
without any words of greeting--

"Have you medicine, Tuan?"

"No," said the visitor in a startled tone. "No. Why? Is there sickness
in the house?"

"Enter and see," replied Arsat, in the same calm manner, and turning
short round, passed again through the small doorway. The white man,
dropping his bundles