moodily. "Do you think I am so very happy?"

"No! no!" said Lingard, heartily. "Not a word more shall pass my lips.
I had to speak my mind once, seeing that I knew you from a child, so
to speak. And now I shall forget; but you are young yet. Life is very
long," he went on, with unconscious sadness; "let this be a lesson to
you."

He laid his hand affectionately on Willems' shoulder, and they both sat
silent till the boat came alongside the ship's ladder.

When on board Lingard gave orders to his mate, and leading Willems on
the poop, sat on the breech of one of the brass six-pounders with
which his vessel was armed. The boat went off again to bring back the
messenger. As soon as it was seen returning dark forms appeared on the
brig's spars; then the sails fell in festoons with a swish of their
heavy folds, and hung motionless under the yards in the dead calm of
the clear and dewy night. From the forward end came the clink of the
windlass, and soon afterwards the hail of the chief mate informing
Lingard that the cable was hove short.

"Hold on everything," hailed back Lingard; "we must wait for the
land-breeze before we let go our hold of the ground."

He approached Willems, who sat on the skylight, his body bent down, his
head low, and his hands hanging listlessly between his knees.

"I am going to take you to Sambir," he said. "You've never heard of the
place, have you? Well, it's up that river of mine about which people
talk so much and know so little. I've found out the entrance for a ship