and above the roofs of the settlement there rose a dull roar of amazement.  But he was safe.  Doramin’s people were barricading the gate and pouring water down his throat; Doramin’s old wife, full of business and commiseration, was issuing shrill orders to her girls.  “The old woman,” he said softly, “made a to-do over me as if I had been her own son.  They put me into an immense bed—­her state bed—­and she ran in and out wiping her eyes to give me pats on the back.  I must have been a pitiful object.  I just lay there like a log for I don’t know how long.”

’He seemed to have a great liking for Doramin’s old wife.  She on her side had taken a motherly fancy to him.  She had a round, nut-brown, soft face, all fine wrinkles, large, bright red lips (she chewed betel assiduously), and screwed up, winking, benevolent eyes.  She was constantly in movement, scolding busily and ordering unceasingly a troop of young women with clear brown faces and big grave eyes, her daughters, her servants, her slave-girls.  You know how it is in these households:  it’s generally impossible to tell the difference.  She was very spare, and even her ample outer garment, fastened in front with jewelled clasps, had somehow a skimpy effect.  Her dark bare feet were thrust into yellow straw slippers of Chinese make.  I have seen her myself flitting about with her extremely thick, long, grey hair falling about her shoulders.  She uttered homely shrewd sayings, was of noble birth, and was eccentric and arbitrary.  In the afternoon she would sit in a very roomy arm-chair, opposite her husband, gazing steadily through a wide opening in the wall which gave an extensive view of the settlement and the river.

’She invariably tucked up her feet under her, but old Doramin sat squarely, sat imposingly as a mountain sits on a plain.  He was only of the nakhoda or merchant class, but the respect shown to him and the dignity of his bearing were very striking.  He was the chief of the second power in Patusan.  The immigrants from Celebes (about sixty families that, with dependants and so on, could muster some two hundred men “wearing the kriss”) had elected him years ago for their head.  The men of that race are intelligent, enterprising, revengeful, but with a more frank courage than the other Malays, and restless under oppression.  They formed the party opposed to the Rajah.  Of course the quarrels were for trade.  This was the primary cause of faction fights, of the sudden outbreaks that would fill this or that part of the settlement with smoke, flame, the noise of shots and shrieks.  Villages were burnt, men were dragged into the Rajah’s stockade to be killed or tortured for the crime of trading with anybody else but himself.  Only a day or two before Jim’s arrival several heads of households in the very fishing village that was afterwards taken under his especial protection had been driven over the cliffs by a party of the Rajah’s spearmen, on suspicion of having been collecting edible