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and he was the white man’s friend.  He drank the white man’s strong water,” he added, with affected horror.  “That I have seen myself.”
    The men stretched out the broken limbs on two planks they had laid level, while Mrs. Almayer covered the body with a piece of white cotton cloth, and after whispering for some time with Babalatchi departed to her domestic duties.  Almayer’s men, after laying down their burden, dispersed themselves in quest of shady spots wherein to idle the day away.  Babalatchi was left alone by the corpse that laid rigid under the white cloth in the bright sunshine.
    Nina came down the steps and joined Babalatchi, who put his hand to his forehead, and squatted down with great deference.
    “You have a bangle there,” said Nina, looking down on Babalatchi’s upturned face and into his solitary eye.
    “I have, Mem Putih,” returned the polite statesman.  Then turning towards Mahmat he beckoned him closer, calling out, “Come here!”
    Mahmat approached with some hesitation.  He avoided looking at Nina, but fixed his eyes on Babalatchi.
    “Now, listen,” said Babalatchi, sharply.  “The ring and the anklet you have seen, and you know they belonged to Dain the trader, and to no other.  Dain returned last night in a canoe.  He spoke with the Rajah, and in the middle of the night left to cross over to the white man’s house.  There was a great flood, and this morning you found him in the river.”
    “By his feet I dragged him out,” muttered Mahmat under his breath.  “Tuan Babalatchi, there will be a recompense!” he exclaimed aloud.
    Babalatchi held up the gold bangle before Mahmat’s eyes.  “What I have told you, Mahmat, is for all ears.  What I give you now is for your eyes only.  Take.”
    Mahmat took the bangle eagerly and hid it in the folds of his waist-cloth.  “Am I a fool to show this thing in a house with three women in it?” he growled.  “But I shall tell them about Dain the trader, and there will be talk enough.”
    He turned and went away, increasing his pace as soon as he was outside Almayer’s compound.
    Babalatchi looked after him till he disappeared behind the bushes.  “Have I done well, Mem Putih?” he asked, humbly addressing Nina.
    “You have,” answered Nina.  “The ring you may keep yourself.”
    Babalatchi touched his lips and forehead, and scrambled to his feet.  He looked at Nina, as if expecting her to say something more, but Nina turned towards the house and went up the steps, motioning him away with her hand.
    Babalatchi picked up his staff and prepared to go.  It was very warm, and he did not care for the long pull to the Rajah’s house.  Yet he must go and tell the Rajah — tell of the event; of the change in his plans; of all his suspicions.  He walked to the jetty and began casting off the rattan painter of his canoe.
    The broad expanse of the lower reach, with its shimmering surface dotted by the black specks of the fishing canoes, lay before his eyes.  The fishermen seemed to be racing.  Babalatchi paused in his work, and looked on with sudden interest.  The man in the foremost canoe, now within hail of the first houses of Sambir, laid in his paddle and stood up shouting —
    “The boats! the boats!  The man-of-war’s boats are coming!  They are here!”
    In a moment the settlement was again alive with people rushing to the riverside.  The men began to unfasten their boats, the women stood in groups looking towards the bend down the river.  Above the trees lining the reach a slight puff of smoke appeared like a black stain on the brilliant blue of the cloudless sky.
    Babalatchi stood perplexed, the painter in his hand.  He looked down the reach, then up towards Almayer’s house, and back again at the river as if undecided what to do.  At last he made the canoe fast again hastily, and ran towards the house and up the steps of the verandah.
    “Tuan!  Tuan!” he called, eagerly.  “The boats are coming.  The man-of-war’s boats.  You had better get ready.  The officers will come here, I know.”
    Almayer lifted his head slowly from the table, and looked at him stupidly.
    “Mem Putih!” exclaimed Babalatchi to Nina, “look at him.  He does not hear.  You must take care,” he added meaningly.
    Nina nodded to him with an uncertain smile, and was going to speak, when a sharp report from the gun mounted in the bow of the steam launch that was just then coming into view arrested the words