Complete Works

spoke also of the mountain peak that rising lonely above the belt of trees knew the secrets of the passing clouds, and was the dwelling-place of the mysterious spirit of his race, of the guardian genius of his house.  He spoke of vast horizons swept by fierce winds that whistled high above the summits of burning mountains.  He spoke of his forefathers that conquered ages ago the island of which he was to be the future ruler.  And then as, in her interest, she brought her face nearer to his, he, touching lightly the thick tresses of her long hair, felt a sudden impulse to speak to her of the sea he loved so well; and he told her of its never-ceasing voice, to which he had listened as a child, wondering at its hidden meaning that no living man has penetrated yet; of its enchanting glitter; of its senseless and capricious fury; how its surface was for ever changing, and yet always enticing, while its depths were for ever the same, cold and cruel, and full of the wisdom of destroyed life.  He told her how it held men slaves of its charm for a lifetime, and then, regardless of their devotion, swallowed them up, angry at their fear of its mystery, which it would never disclose, not even to those that loved it most.  While he talked, Nina’s head had been gradually sinking lower, and her face almost touched his now.  Her hair was over his eyes, her breath was on his forehead, her arms were about his body.  No two beings could be closer to each other, yet she guessed rather than understood the meaning of his last words that came out after a slight hesitation in a faint murmur, dying out imperceptibly into a profound and significant silence:  “The sea, O Nina, is like a woman’s heart.”
    She closed his lips with a sudden kiss, and answered in a steady voice —
    “But to the men that have no fear, O master of my life, the sea is ever true.”
    Over their heads a film of dark, thread-like clouds, looking like immense cobwebs drifting under the stars, darkened the sky with the presage of the coming thunderstorm.  From the invisible hills the first distant rumble of thunder came in a prolonged roll which, after tossing about from hill to hill, lost itself in the forests of the Pantai.  Dain and Nina stood up, and the former looked at the sky uneasily.
    “It is time for Babalatchi to be here,” he said.  “The night is more than half gone.  Our road is long, and a bullet travels quicker than the best canoe.”
    “He will be here before the moon is hidden behind the clouds,” said Nina.  “I heard a splash in the water,” she added.  “Did you hear it too?”
    “Alligator,” answered Dain shortly, with a careless glance towards the creek.  “The darker the night,” he continued, “the shorter will be our road, for then we could keep in the current of the main stream, but if it is light — even no more than now — we must follow the small channels of sleeping water, with nothing to help our paddles.”
    “Dain,” interposed Nina, earnestly, “it was no alligator.  I heard the bushes rustling near the landing-place.”
    “Yes,” said Dain, after listening awhile.  “It cannot be Babalatchi, who would come in a big war canoe, and openly.  Those that are coming, whoever they are, do not wish to make much noise.  But you have heard, and now I can see,” he went on quickly.  “It is but one man.  Stand behind me, Nina.  If he is a friend he is welcome; if he is an enemy you shall see him die.”
    He laid his hand on his kriss, and awaited the approach of his unexpected visitor.  The fire was burning very low, and small clouds — precursors of the storm — crossed the face of the moon in rapid succession, and their flying shadows darkened the clearing.  He could not make out who the man might be, but he felt uneasy at the steady advance of the tall figure walking on the path with a heavy tread, and hailed it with a command to stop.  The man stopped at some little distance, and Dain expected him to speak, but all he could hear was his deep breathing.  Through a break in the flying clouds a sudden and fleeting brightness descended upon the clearing.  Before the darkness closed in again, Dain saw a hand holding some glittering object extended towards him, heard Nina’s cry of “Father!” and in an instant the girl was between him and Almayer’s revolver.  Nina’s loud cry woke up the echoes of the sleeping woods, and the three stood still as if waiting for the return of