sharper pang of anger and unavailing regret. That voice carried him
back to the beginning of his promising career, the end of which was very
visible now from the jetty where they both stood. He shook himself free
from the friendly grasp, saying with ready bitterness--

"It's all your fault. Give me a push now, do, and send me over. I have
been standing here waiting for help. You are the man--of all men. You
helped at the beginning; you ought to have a hand in the end."

"I have better use for you than to throw you to the fishes," said
Lingard, seriously, taking Willems by the arm and forcing him gently to
walk up the jetty. "I have been buzzing over this town like a bluebottle
fly, looking for you high and low. I have heard a lot. I will tell you
what, Willems; you are no saint, that's a fact. And you have not been
over-wise either. I am not throwing stones," he added, hastily, as
Willems made an effort to get away, "but I am not going to mince
matters. Never could! You keep quiet while I talk. Can't you?"

With a gesture of resignation and a half-stifled groan Willems submitted
to the stronger will, and the two men paced slowly up and down the
resounding planks, while Lingard disclosed to Willems the exact manner
of his undoing. After the first shock Willems lost the faculty of
surprise in the over-powering feeling of indignation. So it was Vinck
and Leonard who had served him so. They had watched him, tracked his
misdeeds, reported them to Hudig. They had bribed obscure Chinamen,
wormed out confidences from tipsy skippers, got at various boatmen,
and had pieced out in that way the story of his irregularities. The
blackness of this dark intrigue filled him with horror. He could
understand Vinck. There was no love lost between them. But Leonard!
Leonard!