energy and waited, stamping his feet impatiently.

"I will see this thing through," he muttered to himself. "And I will
have it all square and ship-shape; see if I don't! Are you going to
bring that lamp, you son of a crippled mud-turtle? I am waiting."

The gleam of the light on the paper placated his professional anger, and
he wrote rapidly, the final dash of his signature curling the paper up
in a triangular tear.

"Take that to this white Tuan's house. I will send the boat back for you
in half an hour."

The coxswain raised his lamp deliberately to Willem's face.

"This Tuan? Tau! I know."

"Quick then!" said Lingard, taking the lamp from him--and the man went
off at a run.

"Kassi mem! To the lady herself," called Lingard after him.

Then, when the man disappeared, he turned to Willems.

"I have written to your wife," he said. "If you do not return for good,
you do not go back to that house only for another parting. You must come
as you stand. I won't have that poor woman tormented. I will see to it
that you are not separated for long. Trust me!"

Willems shivered, then smiled in the darkness.