what's good for them, when it's explained to them by their
betters--missionaries, and such like au-tho-ri-ties. But to fight ten
years. And for a woman!"

"I have read the tale in a book," said Lingard, speaking down over the
side as if setting his words gently afloat upon the sea. "I have read
the tale. She was very beautiful."

"That only makes it worse, sir--if anything. You may depend on it she
was no good. Those pagan times will never come back, thank God. Ten
years of murder and unrighteousness! And for a woman! Would anybody do
it now? Would you do it, sir? Would you--"

The sound of a bell struck sharply interrupted Shaw's discourse. High
aloft, some dry block sent out a screech, short and lamentable, like a
cry of pain. It pierced the quietness of the night to the very core, and
seemed to destroy the reserve which it had imposed upon the tones of the
two men, who spoke now loudly.

"Throw the cover over the binnacle," said Lingard in his duty voice.
"The thing shines like a full moon. We mustn't show more lights than we
can help, when becalmed at night so near the land. No use in being seen
if you can't see yourself--is there? Bear that in mind, Mr. Shaw. There
may be some vagabonds prying about--"

"I thought all this was over and done for," said Shaw, busying himself
with the cover, "since Sir Thomas Cochrane swept along the Borneo coast
with his squadron some years ago. He did a rare lot of fighting--didn't
he? We heard about it from the chaps of the sloop Diana that was
refitting in Calcutta when I was there in the Warwick Castle. They took