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decency.  She said she was waiting for him while he was here; then, after a long time, he came out of the darkness and fell at her feet exhausted.  He lay like one dead, but she brought him back to life in her arms, and made him breathe again with her own breath.  That is what she said, speaking to my face, as I am speaking now to you, Rajah.  She is like a white woman and knows no shame.”
    He paused, deeply shocked.  Lakamba nodded his head.  “Well, and then?” he asked.
    “They called the old woman,” went on Babalatchi, “and he told them all — about the brig, and how he tried to kill many men.  He knew the Orang Blanda were very near, although he had said nothing to us about that; he knew his great danger.  He thought he had killed many, but there were only two dead, as I have heard from the men of the sea that came in the warship’s boats.”
    “And the other man, he that was found in the river?” interrupted Lakamba.
    “That was one of his boatmen.  When his canoe was overturned by the logs those two swam together, but the other man must have been hurt.  Dain swam, holding him up.  He left him in the bushes when he went up to the house.  When they all came down his heart had ceased to beat; then the old woman spoke; Dain thought it was good.  He took off his anklet and broke it, twisting it round the man’s foot.  His ring he put on that slave’s hand.  He took off his sarong and clothed that thing that wanted no clothes, the two women holding it up meanwhile, their intent being to deceive all eyes and to mislead the minds in the settlement, so that they could swear to the thing that was not, and that there could be no treachery when the white-men came.  Then Dain and the white woman departed to call up Bulangi and find a hiding-place.  The old woman remained by the body.”
    “Hai!” exclaimed Lakamba.  “She has wisdom.”
    “Yes, she has a Devil of her own to whisper counsel in her ear,” assented Babalatchi.  “She dragged the body with great toil to the point where many logs were stranded.  All these things were done in the darkness after the storm had passed away.  Then she waited.  At the first sign of daylight she battered the face of the dead with a heavy stone, and she pushed him amongst the logs.  She remained near, watching.  At sunrise Mahmat Banjer came and found him.  They all believed; I myself was deceived, but not for long.  The white man believed, and, grieving, fled to his house.  When we were alone I, having doubts, spoke to the woman, and she, fearing my anger and your might, told me all, asking for help in saving Dain.”
    “He must not fall into the hands of the Orang Blanda,” said Lakamba; “but let him die, if the thing can be done quietly.”
    “It cannot, Tuan!  Remember there is that woman who, being half white, is ungovernable, and would raise a great outcry.  Also the officers are here.  They are angry enough already.  Dain must escape; he must go.  We must help him now for our own safety.”
    “Are the officers very angry?” inquired Lakamba, with interest.
    “They are.  The principal chief used strong words when speaking to me — to me when I salaamed in your name.  I do not think,” added Babalatchi, after a short pause and looking very worried — ”I do not think I saw a white chief so angry before.  He said we were careless or even worse.  He told me he would speak to the Rajah, and that I was of no account.”
    “Speak to the Rajah!” repeated Lakamba, thoughtfully.  “Listen, Babalatchi: I am sick, and shall withdraw; you cross over and tell the white men.”
    “Yes,” said Babalatchi, “I am going over at once; and as to Dain?”
    “You get him away as you can best.  This is a great trouble in my heart,” sighed Lakamba.
    Babalatchi got up, and, going close to his master, spoke earnestly.
    “There is one of our praus at the southern mouth of the river.  The Dutch warship is to the northward watching the main entrance.  I shall send Dain off to-night in a canoe, by the hidden channels, on board the prau.  His father is a great prince, and shall hear of our generosity.  Let the prau take him to Ampanam.  Your glory shall be great, and your reward in powerful friendship.  Almayer will no doubt deliver the dead body as Dain’s to the officers, and the foolish white men shall say, ‘This is very good; let there be peace.’  And the trouble shall be removed from your heart,