th a stir of leaves, with the nod of boughs, with the tremble of slender branches the sea breeze struck the coast, rushed up the river, swept round t

rmur of yet sleepy voices, by coughs and yawns, with now and then a burst of laughter, a loud hail, a name or a joke sent out in a soft drawl. Small groups squatted round the little fires, and the monotonous undertone of talk filled the enclosure; the talk of barbarians, persistent, steady, repeating itself in the soft syllables, in musical tones of the never-ending discourses of those men of the forests and the sea, who can talk most of the day and all the

long devotion, or faithful service had given the privilege of using the chief's house, were sleeping on mats or just sat up rubbing their eyes: while the more wakeful had mustered enough energy to draw a chessboard with red clay on a fine mat and were now meditating silently over their moves. Above the prostrate forms of the players, who lay face downward supported on elbow, the soles of their feet waving irresolutely about, in the absorbed meditat

it, and tearing off a piece of green leaf deposited in it a pinch of lime, a morsel of gambier, a small bit of areca nut, and wrapped up the whole with a dexterous twi

alat

o the courtyard. There was a movement of upturned faces below by the fires, and the cry trailed over the enclosure in sing-song tones. The thumping of wooden pestles husking the evening rice stopped for a moment and Babalatchi's name ra

th the bl

if he had forgotten all about it already - sat with a stolid face amongst his silent followers, leaning back squarely in his chair, his han

its upper end. That gate gave access to a separate enclosure in which a rather large house, built of planks, had been prepared by Lakamba's orders for the reception of Omar and Aissa. It was a superior kind of habitation which Lakamba intended for the dwelling of his chief adviser - whose abilities were worth that honour, he thought. But after the consultation in the deserted clearing - when Babalatchi had disclosed his plan - they both had agreed that the new house should be used at first to shelter Omar and Aissa after they had been persuaded to leave the Rajah's place, or had been kidnapped from there - as the case might be. Babalatchi did not mind in the least the putting off of his own occupation of the ho

eaves. To the right - and some small distance away from the large house - a little hut of reeds, covered with mats, had been put up for the special convenience of Omar, who, being blind and infirm, had some difficulty in ascending the steep plankway that led to the more substantial dwelling, which was built on low posts and had an uncovered verandah. Close by the trunk of the tree, and

t the old woman muttered a question. Silently, the woman stretched a tremulous and emaciated arm to

mar besar! It is

ind Omar, who followed with both his hands on his guide's shoulders. There was a rude seat under the tree, and there Babalatchi led his old chief, who sat down with a sigh of relief and leaned wearily against the rugged trunk. The rays of the setting sun, darting under the sp

s setting?" asked O

" answered

? It is like black night to those who see. And the sun is near its setting - and I have not heard the sound o

ar," said

s voice. "Where is he? Not here. Not here!" he repeated, turnin

i, soothingly. Then, after a pause, he a

rn? I have cursed him three times,"

alatchi, in a conciliating manner -"and yet

ou great. You were dirt under my feet - less

r side many times," s

s and stealthy like rocks that tear a ship's life out under the smooth sea." He drew a long breath, struggled with his anger, then broke down suddenly. "I have been hungry," he continued, in a whimpering tone -

a way for their destruction and our own greatness. And if I saw aright, then you shal

to-morrow," murmu

itten since the beginning of the worl

m come back,"

power of men we always hated, you and I, shall crumble into dust in our hand." Th

see all this, w

atchi, regretfully. "T

last day! I see it yet - the last thing I saw! And I hear the noise of the rent earth - when they al

ur right hand for many years. I have heard by a messenger that the Syed Abdulla is coming to-night, perhaps late; for those things must be done secretly, lest the white man, the trader up the river, should know of them. But

ng. She had approached so quietly that even Omar did not hear her footsteps, and she stood now looking at them with troubled eyes and

not understand. I am very cold," he continued, in a lower tone, moving his shoulders uneasily. He ceased, then went on rambling in a faint whisper. "They are the sons of witches, a

men to fight one another," answ

eft then? How many? Tel

balatchi, sententiously. "They are on every sea; only the wisdom of the M

y die? Will they both die?" as

nt. Babalatchi held

e said steadily, looking at

can pass my hand over their face

rs," answered Babalatchi, with

d fro, wheezing and moaning in turns, while Babalatchi and the girl lo

ly about with his trembling hands. "Is there anybody near

his shoulder lightly. "Always by your side as in the days when we both

l be no man, no fearless man to speak of his father's bravery. There was a woman! A woman! And she has forsa

le, and asked quietly - "I

ighest tree I can see from

rayer," said Omar, a

's praying carpet. Out of a brass vessel he poured the water of ablution on Omar's outstretched hands, and eased him carefully down into a kneeling posture, for the venerable robber was far t

y stood facing each other in silence. Babalatchi appeared embarrassed. With a sudden and quick gesture she caught hold of his a

t here," she whispered; "what have you do

s a strange man, but our friend, and shall keep close to him and watch him without ostentation. And at the third hour of th

ted for him yesterday. To-

ur power," he went on in a louder tone -"you that to him are more

she said, gloomily, "and then the

and die a beggar?" aske

nd the black pupils of her wide-open eyes darted w

wards Omar. "Do you think, O girl! that he hi

y. "He despises you all! He desp

mber, woman with the strong heart, that to hold him now you must be to him

s head on one side and appeared to listen intently to the hum of voices in the big courtyard. The dull noise swelled into distinct shouts, then into a great tumult of voices, dying away, recommencing, growing louder, to cease again abrup

he whi

ly, and the noble exile appeared with disturbed mien and a naked short sword in his hand. His turban was half unrolle

to rush upon me. I have been in great danger," went on the ambitious nobleman in an aggrieved tone. "Do you hear that, Babalatchi? T

's discourse. Angry voices shouted: "Hold

ghty hand, and after a second of surprising silence the voice of Willems

e blasphemes his God. His speech is like the raving of

the touch of his restraining hand. "It is the third day, and I have kept my promise," he said to her, speaking very low. "Remember,"

go!" Then after a pause in the din no longer than half the human breath the name of Aissa rang in a shout loud, discordant, and piercing, which sent through them an involuntary shudder. Old Omar collapsed on his carpet and moaned

tic kick, and Willems darted in carrying Aissa in his arms. He rushed up the enclosure like a tornado, pressing the girl to his breast, her arms round his neck, her head hanging back over his arm, her eyes closed a

porting himself on his elbow, his terrified face with its closed

Help me to rise!" h

f the big house, and took no notice of his call. He listened for a while, then his ar

rested on the ground, immobile, as if resting for ever, in the glow of the fire; but soon it stirred, then soared suddenly, and flew, spinni