together with the best of his domestic utensils and a dozen fowls.  This caused more confusion.  Meantime the palaver inside Jim’s house went on in the presence of the girl.  Doramin sat fierce-faced, heavy, looking at the speakers in turn, and breathing slow like a bull.  He didn’t speak till the last, after Kassim had declared that the Rajah’s boats would be called in because the men were required to defend his master’s stockade.  Dain Waris in his father’s presence would offer no opinion, though the girl entreated him in Jim’s name to speak out.  She offered him Jim’s own men in her anxiety to have these intruders driven out at once.  He only shook his head, after a glance or two at Doramin.  Finally, when the council broke up it had been decided that the houses nearest the creek should be strongly occupied to obtain the command of the enemy’s boat.  The boat itself was not to be interfered with openly, so that the robbers on the hill should be tempted to embark, when a well-directed fire would kill most of them, no doubt.  To cut off the escape of those who might survive, and to prevent more of them coming up, Dain Waris was ordered by Doramin to take an armed party of Bugis down the river to a certain spot ten miles below Patusan, and there form a camp on the shore and blockade the stream with the canoes.  I don’t believe for a moment that Doramin feared the arrival of fresh forces.  My opinion is that his conduct was guided solely by his wish to keep his son out of harm’s way.  To prevent a rush being made into the town the construction of a stockade was to be commenced at daylight at the end of the street on the left bank.  The old nakhoda declared his intention to command there himself.  A distribution of powder, bullets, and percussion-caps was made immediately under the girl’s supervision.  Several messengers were to be dispatched in different directions after Jim, whose exact whereabouts were unknown.  These men started at dawn, but before that time Kassim had managed to open communications with the besieged Brown.

’That accomplished diplomatist and confidant of the Rajah, on leaving the fort to go back to his master, took into his boat Cornelius, whom he found slinking mutely amongst the people in the courtyard.  Kassim had a little plan of his own and wanted him for an interpreter.  Thus it came about that towards morning Brown, reflecting upon the desperate nature of his position, heard from the marshy overgrown hollow an amicable, quavering, strained voice crying—­in English—­for permission to come up, under a promise of personal safety and on a very important errand.  He was overjoyed.  If he was spoken to he was no longer a hunted wild beast.  These friendly sounds took off at once the awful stress of vigilant watchfulness as of so many blind men not knowing whence the deathblow might come.  He pretended a great reluctance.  The voice declared itself “a white man—­a poor, ruined, old man who had been living here for years.”  A