his sensations, his personality--all this seemed to be lost in

the abominable desire, in the priceless promise of that woman.
He was not, of course, able to discern clearly the causes of his

misery; but there are none so ignorant as not to know suffering,
none so simple as not to feel and suffer from the shock of

warring impulses. The ignorant must feel and suffer from their
complexity as well as the wisest; but to them the pain of

struggle and defeat appears strange, mysterious, remediable and
unjust. He stood watching her, watching himself. He tingled

with rage from head to foot, as if he had been struck in the
face. Suddenly he laughed; but his laugh was like a distorted

echo of some insincere mirth very far away.
From the other side of the fire Babalatchi spoke hurriedly--

"Here is Tuan Abdulla."
CHAPTER FIVE

Directly on stepping outside Omar's hut Abdulla caught sight of
Willems. He expected, of course, to see a white man, but not

that white man, whom he knew so well. Everybody who traded in
the islands, and who had any dealings with Hudig, knew Willems.

For the last two years of his stay in Macassar the confidential" target="_blank" title="a.极受信任的；心腹的">confidential
clerk had been managing all the local trade of the house under a

very slight supervision only on the part of the master. So
everybody knew Willems, Abdulla amongst others--but he was

ignorant of Willems' disgrace. As a matter of fact the thing had
been kept very quiet--so quiet that a good many people in

Macassar were expecting Willems' return there, supposing him to
be absent on some confidential" target="_blank" title="a.极受信任的；心腹的">confidentialmission. Abdulla, in his

surprise, hesitated on the threshold. He had prepared himself to
see some seaman--some old officer of Lingard's; a common man--

perhaps difficult to deal with, but still no match for him.
Instead, he saw himself confronted by an individual whose

reputation for sagacity in business was well known to him. How
did he get here, and why? Abdulla, recovering from his surprise,

advanced in a dignified manner towards the fire, keeping his eyes
fixed steadily on Willems. When within two paces from Willems he

stopped and lifted his right hand in grave salutation. Willems
nodded slightly and spoke after a while.

"We know each other, Tuan Abdulla," he said, with an assumption
of easy indifference.

"We have traded together," answered Abdulla, solemnly, "but it
was far from here."

"And we may trade here also," said Willems.
"The place does not matter. It is the open mind and the true

heart that are required in business."
"Very true. My heart is as open as my mind. I will tell you why

I am here."
"What need is there? In leaving home one learns life. You

travel. Travelling is victory! You shall return with much
wisdom."

"I shall never return," interrupted Willems. "I have done with
my people. I am a man without brothers. Injustice destroys

fidelity."
Abdulla expressed his surprise by elevating his eyebrows. At the

same time he made a vague gesture with his arm that could be
taken as an equivalent of an approving and conciliating "just

so!"
Till then the Arab had not taken any notice of Aissa, who stood

by the fire, but now she spoke in the interval of silence
following Willems' declaration. In a voice that was much

deadened by her wrappings she addressed Abdulla in a few words of
greeting, calling him a kinsman. Abdulla glanced at her swiftly

for a second, and then, with perfect good breeding, fixed his
eyes on the ground. She put out towards him her hand, covered

with a corner of her face-veil, and he took it, pressed it twice,
and dropping it turned towards Willems. She looked at the two

men searchingly, then backed away and seemed to melt suddenly
into the night.

"I know what you came for, Tuan Abdulla," said Willems; "I have
been told by that man there." He nodded towards Babalatchi, then

went on slowly, "It will be a difficult thing."
"Allah makes everything easy," interjected Babalatchi, piously,

from a distance.
The two men turned quickly and stood looking at him thoughtfully,

as if in deep consideration of the truth of that proposition.
Under their sustained gaze Babalatchi experienced an unwonted

feeling of shyness, and dared not approach nearer. At last
Willems moved slightly, Abdulla followed readily, and they both

walked down the courtyard, their voices dying away in the
darkness. Soon they were heard returning, and the voices grew

distinct as their forms came out of the gloom. By the fire they
wheeled again, and Babalatchi caught a few words. Willems was

saying--
"I have been at sea with him many years when young. I have used

my knowledge to observe the way into the river when coming in,
this time."

Abdulla assented in general terms.
"In the variety of knowledge there is safety," he said; and then

they passed out of earshot.
Babalatchi ran to the tree and took up his position in the solid

blackness under its branches, leaning against the trunk. There
he was about midway between the fire and the other limit of the

two men's walk. They passed him close. Abdulla slim, very
straight, his head high, and his hands hanging before him and

twisting mechanically the string of beads; Willems tall, broad,
looking bigger and stronger in contrast to the slight white

figure by the side of which he strolled carelessly, taking one
step to the other's two; his big arms in constantmotion as he

gesticulated vehemently, bending forward to look Abdulla in the
face.

They passed and repassed close to Babalatchi some half a dozen
times, and, whenever they were between him and the fire, he could

see them plain enough. Sometimes they would stop short, Willems
speaking emphatically, Abdulla listening with rigid attention,

then, when the other had ceased, bending his head slightly as if
consenting to some demand, or admitting some statement. Now and

then Babalatchi caught a word here and there, a fragment of a
sentence, a loud exclamation. Impelled by curiosity he crept to

the very edge of the black shadow under the tree. They were
nearing him, and he heard Willems say--

"You will pay that money as soon as I come on board. That I must
have."

He could not catch Abdulla's reply. When they went past again,
Willems was saying--

"My life is in your hand anyway. The boat that brings me on
board your ship shall take the money to Omar. You must have it

ready in a sealed bag."
Again they were out of hearing, but instead of coming back they

stopped by the fire facing each other. Willems moved his arm,
shook his hand on high talking all the time, then brought it down

jerkily--stamped his foot. A short period of immobility ensued.
Babalatchi, gazing intently, saw Abdulla's lips move almost

imperceptibly. Suddenly Willems seized the Arab's passive hand
and shook it. Babalatchi drew the long breath of relieved

suspense. The conference was over. All well, apparently.
He ventured now to approach the two men, who saw him and waited

in silence. Willems had retired within himself already, and wore
a look of grim indifference. Abdulla moved away a step or two.