酷兔英语

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waking to another day of suffering. As the astute statesman

proceeded, Lingard's eyebrows came close, his eyes became



animated, and a big vein stood out on his forehead, accentuating

a lowering frown. When speaking his last words Babalatchi



faltered, then stopped, confused, before the steady gaze of the

old seaman.



Lingard rose. His face cleared, and he looked down at the

anxious Babalatchi with sudden benevolence.



"So! That's what you were after," he said, laying a heavy hand

on Babalatchi's yielding shoulder. "You thought I came here to



murder him. Hey? Speak! You faithful dog of an Arab trader!"

"And what else, Tuan?" shrieked Babalatchi, exasperated into



sincerity. "What else, Tuan! Remember what he has done; he

poisoned our ears with his talk about you. You are a man. If



you did not come to kill, Tuan, then either I am a fool or . . ."

He paused, struck his naked breast with his open palm, and



finished in a discouraged whisper--"or, Tuan, you are."

Lingard looked down at him with scornful serenity. After his



long and painful gropings amongst the obscure abominations of

Willems' conduct, the logical if tortuous evolutions of



Babalatchi's diplomatic mind were to him welcome as daylight.

There was something at last he could understand--the clear effect



of a simple cause. He felt indulgent towards the disappointed

sage.



"So you are angry with your friend, O one-eyed one!" he said

slowly, nodding his fiercecountenance close to Babalatchi's



discomfited face. "It seems to me that you must have had much to

do with what happened in Sambir lately. Hey? You son of a burnt



father."

"May I perish under your hand, O Rajah of the sea, if my words



are not true!" said Babalatchi, with recklessexcitement. "You

are here in the midst of your enemies. He the greatest. Abdulla



would do nothing without him, and I could do nothing without

Abdulla. Strike me--so that you strike all!"



"Who are you," exclaimed Lingard contemptuously--"who are you to

dare call yourself my enemy! Dirt! Nothing! Go out first," he



went on severely. "Lakas! quick. March out!"

He pushed Babalatchi through the doorway and followed him down



the short ladder into the courtyard. The boatmen squatting over

the fire turned their slow eyes with apparent difficulty towards



the two men; then, unconcerned, huddled close together again,

stretching forlornly their hands over the embers. The women



stopped in their work and with uplifted pestles flashed quick and

curious glances from the gloom under the house.



"Is that the way?" asked Lingard with a nod towards the little

wicket-gate of Willems' enclosure.



"If you seek death, that is surely the way," answered Babalatchi

in a dispassionate voice, as if he had exhausted all the



emotions. "He lives there: he who destroyed your friends; who

hastened Omar's death; who plotted with Abdulla first against



you, then against me. I have been like a child. O shame! . . .

But go, Tuan. Go there."



"I go where I like," said Lingard, emphatically, "and you may go

to the devil; I do not want you any more. The islands of these



seas shall sink before I, Rajah Laut, serve the will of any of

your people. Tau? But I tell you this: I do not care what you



do with him after to-day. And I say that because I am merciful."

"Tida! I do nothing," said Babalatchi, shaking his head with



bitter apathy. "I am in Abdulla's hand and care not, even as you

do. No! no!" he added, turning away, "I have learned much wisdom



this morning. There are no men anywhere. You whites are cruel

to your friends and merciful to your enemies--which is the work



of fools."

He went away towards the riverside, and, without once looking



back, disappeared in the low bank of mist that lay over the water

and the shore. Lingard followed him with his eyes thoughtfully.



After awhile he roused himself and called out to his boatmen--

"Hai--ya there! After you have eaten rice, wait for me with your



paddles in your hands. You hear?"

"Ada, Tuan!" answered Ali through the smoke of the morning fire






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