Joanna shivered. Almayer went on rapidly--
"I would have given you money if you had wanted it. 'Pon my

word! Tell your husband I've sent you to him. And tell him not
to lose any time. And also say to him from me that we shall

meet--some day. That I could not die happy unless I met him once
more. Only once. I love him, you know. I prove it. Tremendous

risk to me--this business is!"
Joanna snatched his hand and before he knew what she would be at,

pressed it to her lips.
"Mrs. Willems! Don't. What are you . . ." cried the abashed

Almayer, tearing his hand away.
"Oh, you are good!" she cried, with sudden exaltation, "You are

noble . . . I shall pray every day . . . to all the saints . . .
I shall . . ."

"Never mind . . . never mind!" stammered out Almayer, confusedly,
without knowing very well what he was saying. "Only look out for

Lingard. . . . I am happy to be able . . . in your sad situation
. . . believe me. . . . "

They stood with the table between them, Joanna looking down, and
her face, in the half-light above the lamp, appeared like a

soiled carving of old ivory--a carving, with accentuated anxious
hollows, of old, very old ivory. Almayer looked at her,

mistrustful, hopeful. He was saying to himself: How frail she
is! I could upset her by blowing at her. She seems to have got

some idea of what must be done, but will she have the strength to
carry it through? I must trust to luck now!

Somewhere far in the back courtyard Ali's voice rang suddenly in
angry remonstrance--

"Why did you shut the gate, O father of all mischief? You a
watchman! You are only a wild man. Did I not tell you I was

coming back? You . . ."
"I am off, Mrs. Willems," exclaimed Almayer. "That man is

here--with my servant. Be calm. Try to . . ."
He heard the footsteps of the two men in the passage, and without

finishing his sentence ran rapidly down the steps towards the
riverside.

CHAPTER TWO
For the next half-hour Almayer, who wanted to give Joanna plenty

of time, stumbled amongst the lumber in distant parts of his
enclosure, sneaked along the fences; or held his breath,

flattened against grass walls behind various outhouses: all this
to escape Ali's inconveniently zealous search for his master. He

heard him talk with the head watchman--sometimes quite close to
him in the darkness--then moving off, coming back, wondering,

and, as the time passed, growing uneasy.
"He did not fall into the river?--say, thou blind watcher!" Ali

was growling in a bullying tone, to the other man. "He told me
to fetch Mahmat, and when I came back swiftly I found him not in

the house. There is that Sirani woman there, so that Mahmat
cannot steal anything, but it is in my mind, the night will be

half gone before I rest."
He shouted--

"Master! O master! O mast . . ."
"What are you making that noise for?" said Almayer, with

severity, stepping out close to them.
The two Malays leaped away from each other in their surprise.

"You may go. I don't want you any more tonight, Ali," went on
Almayer. "Is Mahmat there?"

"Unless the ill-behaved savage got tired of waiting. Those men
know not politeness. They should not be spoken to by white men,"

said Ali, resentfully.
Almayer went towards the house, leaving his servants to wonder

where he had sprung from so unexpectedly. The watchman hinted
obscurely at powers of invisibility possessed by the master, who

often at night . . . Ali interrupted him with great scorn. Not
every white man has the power. Now, the Rajah Laut could make

himself invisible. Also, he could be in two places at once, as
everybody knew; except he--the uselesswatchman--who knew no more

about white men than a wild pig! Ya-wa!
And Ali strolled towards his hut, yawning loudly.

As Almayer ascended the steps he heard the noise of a door flung
to, and when he entered the verandah he saw only Mahmat there,

close to the doorway of the passage. Mahmat seemed to be caught
in the very act of slinking away, and Almayer noticed that with

satisfaction. Seeing the white man, the Malay gave up his
attempt and leaned against the wall. He was a short, thick,

broad-shouldered man with very dark skin and a wide, stained,
bright-red mouth that uncovered, when he spoke, a close row of

black and glistening teeth. His eyes were big, prominent, dreamy
and restless. He said sulkily, looking all over the place from

under his eyebrows--
"White Tuan, you are great and strong--and I a poor man. Tell me

what is your will, and let me go in the name of God. It is
late."

Almayer examined the man thoughtfully. How could he find out
whether . . . He had it! Lately he had employed that man and

his two brothers as extra boatmen to carry stores, provisions,
and new axes to a camp of rattan cutters some distance up the

river. A three days' expedition. He would test him now in that
way. He said negligently--

"I want you to start at once for the camp, with surat for the
Kavitan. One dollar a day."

The man appeared plunged in dull hesitation, but Almayer, who
knew his Malays, felt pretty sure from his aspect that nothing

would induce the fellow to go. He urged--
"It is important--and if you are swift I shall give two dollars

for the last day."
"No, Tuan. We do not go," said the man, in a hoarse whisper.

"Why?"
"We start on another journey."

"Where?"
"To a place we know of," said Mahmat, a little louder, in a

stubborn manner, and looking at the floor.
Almayer experienced a feeling of immense joy. He said, with

affected annoyance--
"You men live in my house and it is as if it were your own. I

may want my house soon."
Mahmat looked up.

"We are men of the sea and care not for a roof when we have a
canoe that will hold three, and a paddleapiece. The sea is our

house. Peace be with you, Tuan."
He turned and went away rapidly, and Almayer heard him directly

afterwards in the courtyardcalling to the watchman to open the
gate. Mahmat passed through the gate in silence, but before the

bar had been put up behind him he had made up his mind that if
the white man ever wanted to eject him from his hut, he would

burn it and also as many of the white man's other buildings as he
could safely get at. And he began to call his brothers before he

was inside the dilapidated dwelling.
"All's well!" muttered Almayer to himself, taking some loose Java

tobacco from a drawer in the table. "Now if anything comes out I
am clear. I asked the man to go up the river. I urged him. He

will say so himself. Good."
He began to charge the china bowl of his pipe, a pipe with a long

cherry stem and a curved mouthpiece, pressing the tobacco down
with his thumb and thinking: No. I sha'n't see her again.

Don't want to. I will give her a good start, then go in