savage intrusion into their daily existence with wonderful equanimity. He
did not like it, but dared say nothing.




CHAPTER III.


The deliberations conducted in London have a far-reaching importance, and
so the decision issued from the fog-veiled offices of the Borneo Company
darkened for Almayer the brilliant sunshine of the Tropics, and added
another drop of bitterness to the cup of his disenchantments. The claim
to that part of the East Coast was abandoned, leaving the Pantai river
under the nominal power of Holland. In Sambir there was joy and
excitement. The slaves were hurried out of sight into the forest and
jungle, and the flags were run up to tall poles in the Rajah's compound
in expectation of a visit from Dutch man-of-war boats.

The frigate remained anchored outside the mouth of the river, and the
boats came up in tow of the steam launch, threading their way cautiously
amongst a crowd of canoes filled with gaily dressed Malays. The officer
in command listened gravely to the loyal speeches of Lakamba, returned
the salaams of Abdulla, and assured those gentlemen in choice Malay of
the great Rajah's--down in Batavia--friendship and goodwill towards the
ruler and inhabitants of this model state of Sambir.

Almayer from his verandah watched across the river the festive
proceedings, heard the report of brass guns saluting the new flag
presented to Lakamba, and the deep murmur of the crowd of spectators