in consequence of these overtures from Kassim he began
to think of stealing the whole country. Some
confounded fellow had apparently accomplished something
of the kind—single-handed at that.
Couldn’t have done it very well though.
Perhaps they could work together—squeeze
everything dry and then go out quietly. In the
course of his negotiations with Kassim he became aware
that he was supposed to have a big ship with plenty
of men outside. Kassim begged him earnestly to
have this big ship with his many guns and men brought
up the river without delay for the Rajah’s service.
Brown professed himself willing, and on this basis
the negotiation was carried on with mutual distrust.
Three times in the course of the morning the courteous
and active Kassim went down to consult the Rajah and
came up busily with his long stride. Brown, while
bargaining, had a sort of grim enjoyment in thinking
of his wretched schooner, with nothing but a heap
of dirt in her hold, that stood for an armed ship,
and a Chinaman and a lame ex-beachcomber of Levuka
on board, who represented all his many men. In
the afternoon he obtained further doles of food, a
promise of some money, and a supply of mats for his
men to make shelters for themselves. They lay
down and snored, protected from the burning sunshine;
but Brown, sitting fully exposed on one of the felled
trees, feasted his eyes upon the view of the town
and the river. There was much loot there.
Cornelius, who had made himself at home in the camp,
talked at his elbow, pointing out the localities,
imparting advice, giving his own version of Jim’s
character, and commenting in his own fashion upon
the events of the last three years. Brown, who,
apparently indifferent and gazing away, listened with
attention to every word, could not make out clearly
what sort of man this Jim could be. “What’s
his name? Jim! Jim! That’s not
enough for a man’s name.” “They
call him,” said Cornelius scornfully, “Tuan
Jim here. As you may say Lord Jim.”
“What is he? Where does he come from?”
inquired Brown. “What sort of man is he?
Is he an Englishman?” “Yes, yes, he’s
an Englishman. I am an Englishman too. From
Malacca. He is a fool. All you have to do
is to kill him and then you are king here. Everything
belongs to him,” explained Cornelius. “It
strikes me he may be made to share with somebody before
very long,” commented Brown half aloud.
“No, no. The proper way is to kill him the
first chance you get, and then you can do what you
like,” Cornelius would insist earnestly.
“I have lived for many years here, and I am
giving you a friend’s advice.”