So it was only a deception; he had seen no one.  And yet he remembered the turn of the head, the line of the neck, the colour of the hair, the movement of the passing figure.  He returned spiritlessly to his state-room muttering, “No more sleep for me to-night,” and came out directly, holding a few sheets of paper covered with a high, angular handwriting.

This was Jorgenson’s letter written three days before and entrusted to Hassim.  Lingard had read it already twice, but he turned up the lamp a little higher and sat down to read it again.  On the red shield above his head the gilt sheaf of thunderbolts darting between the initials of his name seemed to be aimed straight at the nape of his neck as he sat with bared elbows spread on the table, poring over the crumpled sheets.  The letter began: 

Hassim and Immada are going out to-night to look for you.  You are behind your time and every passing day makes things worse.

Ten days ago three of Belarab’s men, who had been collecting turtles’ eggs on the islets, came flying back with a story of a ship stranded on the outer mudflats.  Belarab at once forbade any boat from leaving the lagoon.  So far good.  There was a great excitement in the village.  I judge it must be a schooner—­probably some fool of a trader.  However, you will know all about her when you read this.  You may say I might have pulled out to sea to have a look for myself.  But besides Belarab’s orders to the contrary, which I would attend to for the sake of example, all you are worth in this world, Tom, is here in the Emma, under my feet, and I would not leave my charge even for half a day.  Hassim attended the council held every evening in the shed outside Belarab’s stockade.  That holy man Ningrat was for looting that vessel.  Hassim reproved him saying that the vessel probably was sent by you because no white men were known to come inside the shoals.  Belarab backed up Hassim.  Ningrat was very angry and reproached Belarab for keeping him, Ningrat, short of opium to smoke.  He began by calling him “O! son,” and ended by shouting, “O! you worse than an unbeliever!” There was a hullabaloo.  The followers of Tengga were ready to interfere and you know how it is between Tengga and Belarab.  Tengga always wanted to oust Belarab, and his chances were getting pretty good before you turned up and armed Belarab’s bodyguard with muskets.  However, Hassim stopped that row, and no one was hurt that time.  Next day, which was Friday, Ningrat after reading the prayers in the mosque talked to the people outside.  He bleated and capered like an old goat, prophesying misfortune, ruin, and extermination if these whites were allowed to get away.  He is mad but then they think him a saint, and he had been fighting the Dutch for years in his young days.  Six of Belarab’s guard marched down the village street carrying muskets at full cock and the crowd cleared out.  Ningrat was spirited away by Tengga’s men into their master’s stockade.  If it