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were crowded together, nearly bridging the ditch just at the place where Taminah stood.  The voices in the courtyard rose at times into an outburst of calls, replies, and laughter, and then died away into a silence that soon was broken again by a fresh clamour.  Now and again the thin blue smoke rushed out thicker and blacker, and drove in odorous masses over the creek, wrapping her for a moment in a suffocating veil; then, as the fresh wood caught well alight, the smoke vanished in the bright sunlight, and only the scent of aromatic wood drifted afar, to leeward of the crackling fires.
    Taminah rested her tray on a stump of a tree, and remained standing with her eyes turned towards Almayer’s house, whose roof and part of a whitewashed wall were visible over the bushes.  The slave-girl finished her work, and after looking for a while curiously at Taminah, pushed her way through the dense thicket back to the courtyard.  Round Taminah there was now a complete solitude.  She threw herself down on the ground, and hid her face in her hands.  Now when so close she had no courage to see Nina.  At every burst of louder voices from the courtyard she shivered in the fear of hearing Nina’s voice.  She came to the resolution of waiting where she was till dark, and then going straight to Dain’s hiding-place.  From where she was she could watch the movements of white men, of Nina, of all Dain’s friends, and of all his enemies.  Both were hateful alike to her, for both would take him away beyond her reach.  She hid herself in the long grass to wait anxiously for the sunset that seemed so slow to come.
    On the other side of the ditch, behind the bush, by the clear fires, the seamen of the frigate had encamped on the hospitable invitation of Almayer.  Almayer, roused out of his apathy by the prayers and importunity of Nina, had managed to get down in time to the jetty so as to receive the officers at their landing.  The lieutenant in command accepted his invitation to his house with the remark that in any case their business was with Almayer — and perhaps not very pleasant, he added.  Almayer hardly heard him.  He shook hands with them absently and led the way towards the house.  He was scarcely conscious of the polite words of welcome he greeted the strangers with, and afterwards repeated several times over again in his efforts to appear at ease.  The agitation of their host did not escape the officer’s eyes, and the chief confided to his subordinate, in a low voice, his doubts as to Almayer’s sobriety.  The young sub-lieutenant laughed and expressed in a whisper the hope that the white man was not intoxicated enough to neglect the offer of some refreshments.  “He does not seem very dangerous,” he added, as they followed Almayer up the steps of the verandah.
    “No, he seems more of a fool than a knave; I have heard of him,” returned the senior.
    They sat around the table.  Almayer with shaking hands made gin cocktails, offered them all round, and drank himself, with every gulp feeling stronger, steadier, and better able to face all the difficulties of his position.  Ignorant of the fate of the brig he did not suspect the real object of the officer’s visit.  He had a general notion that something must have leaked out about the gunpowder trade, but apprehended nothing beyond some temporary inconveniences.  After emptying his glass he began to chat easily, lying back in his chair with one of his legs thrown negligently over the arm.  The lieutenant astride on his chair, a glowing cheroot in the corner of his mouth, listened with a sly smile from behind the thick volumes of smoke that escaped from his compressed lips.  The young sub-lieutenant, leaning with both elbows on the table, his head between his hands, looked on sleepily in the torpor induced by fatigue and the gin.  Almayer talked on —
    “It is a great pleasure to see white faces here.  I have lived here many years in great solitude.  The Malays, you understand, are not company for a white man; moreover they are not friendly; they do not understand our ways.  Great rascals they are.  I believe I am the only white man on the east coast that is a settled resident.  We get visitors from Macassar or Singapore sometimes — traders, agents, or explorers, but they are rare.  There was a scientific explorer here a year or more ago.  He lived in my house: drank from morning to night.  He lived joyously for a few months, and