m--firmer
than the trees, the rocks, the mountains. But in front of the steady
long barrel the fields, the house, the earth, the sky swayed to and
fro like shadows in a forest on a windy day. Matara burst out of the
thicket; before him the petals of torn flowers whirled high as if driven
by a tempest. I heard her cry; I saw her spring with open arms in front
of the white man. She was a woman of my country and of noble blood. They
are so! I heard her shriek of anguish and fear--and all stood still! The
fields, the house, the earth, the sky stood still--while Matara leaped
at her with uplifted arm. I pulled the trigger, saw a spark, heard
nothing; the smoke drove back into my face, and then I could see Matara
roll over head first and lie with stretched arms at her feet. Ha! A sure
shot! The sunshine fell on my back colder than the running water. A sure
shot! I flung the gun after the shot. Those two stood over the dead man
as though they had been bewitched by a charm. I shouted at her, 'Live
and remember!' Then for a time I stumbled about in a cold darkness.

"Behind me there were great shouts, the running of many feet; strange
men surrounded me, cried meaningless words into my face, pushed me,
dragged me, supported me . . . I stood before the big Dutchman: he
stared as if bereft of his reason. He wanted to know, he talked fast,
he spoke of gratitude, he offered me food, shelter, gold--he asked many
questions. I laughed in his face. I said, 'I am a Korinchi traveller
from Perak over there, and know nothing of that dead man. I was passing
along the path when I heard a shot, and your senseless people rushed
out and dragged me here.' He lifted his arms, he wondered, he could not
believe, he could not understand, he clamoured in his own tongue! She
had her arms clasped round his neck, and over her shoulder stared back
at me with wide eyes. I smiled and looked at her; I smiled and waited to
hear the sound of her voice. The white man asked her suddenly. 'Do you
know him?' I listened--my life was in my ears! She looked at me long,
she looked at me with unflinching eyes, and said aloud, 'No! I never saw
him before.' . . . What! Never before? Had she forgotten already? Was
it possible? Forgotten already--after so many years--so many years
of wandering, of companionship, of trouble, of tender words! Forgotten
already! . . . I tore myself out from the hands that held me and went
away without a word . . . They let me go.

"I was wea