whom the old seaman seemed to have transferred all his former affection
for the mother, would be the richest woman in the East--in the world
even. So old Lingard shouted, pacing the verandah with his heavy quarter-
deck step, gesticulating with a smouldering cheroot; ragged, dishevelled,
enthusiastic; and Almayer, sitting huddled up on a pile of mats, thought
with dread of the separation with the only human being he loved--with
greater dread still, perhaps, of the scene with his wife, the savage
tigress deprived of her young. She will poison me, thought the poor
wretch, well aware of that easy and final manner of solving the social,
political, or family problems in Malay life.

To his great surprise she took the news very quietly, giving only him and
Lingard a furtive glance, and saying not a word. This, however, did not
prevent her the next day from jumping into the river and swimming after
the boat in which Lingard was carrying away the nurse with the screaming
child. Almayer had to give chase with his whale-boat and drag her in by
the hair in the midst of cries and curses enough to make heaven fall. Yet
after two days spent in wailing, she returned to her former mode of life,
chewing betel-nut, and sitting all day amongst her women in stupefied
idleness. She aged very rapidly after that, and only roused herself from
her apathy to acknowledge by a scathing remark or an insulting
exclamation the accidental presence of her husband. He had built for her
a riverside hut in the compound where she dwelt in perfect seclusion.
Lakamba's visits had ceased when, by a convenient decree of Providence
and the help of a little scientific manipulation, the old ruler of Sambir
departed this life. Lakamba reigned in his stead now, having been well
served by his Arab friends with the Dutch authorities. Syed Abdulla was
the great man and trader of the Pantai. Almayer lay ruined and helpless
under the close-meshed net of their intrigues, owing his life only to his
supposed knowledge of Lingard's valuable secret. Lingard had