beings plunged in the abyss of eternal silence, there came to their ears
an unfamiliar thin, far-away voice saying:

"I seek the white man."

"Here," cried Lingard. Then, when he had the stranger, dripping and
naked but for a soaked waistcloth, under the lamp of the cabin, he said,
"I don't know you."

"My name is Jaffir, and I come from Pata Hassim, who is my chief and
your friend. Do you know this?"

He held up a thick gold ring, set with a fairly good emerald.

"I have seen it before on the Rajah's finger," said Lingard, looking
very grave.

"It is the witness of the truth I speak--the message from Hassim
is--'Depart and forget!'"

"I don't forget," said Lingard, slowly. "I am not that kind of man. What
folly is this?"

It is unnecessary to give at full length the story told by Jaffir. It
appears that on his return home, after the meeting with Lingard,
Hassim found his relative dying and a strong party formed to oppose
his rightful successor. The old Rajah Tulla died late at night and--as
Jaffir put it--before the sun rose there were already blows exchanged in
the courtyard of the ruler's dalam. This was the preliminary fight of a
civil war, fostered by foreign intrigues; a war of jungle and river,