had
been done with the prisoners. That is why Daman had welcomed Hassim, and
let him hear the decision and had allowed him to leave the camp on the
sandbank. There could be only one object in this; to let him, Lingard,
know that the prisoners had been put out of his reach as long as he
remained in his brig. Now this brig was his strength. To make him leave
his brig was like removing his hand from his sword.

"Do you understand what I mean, Mrs. Travers?" he asked. "They are
afraid of me because I know how to fight this brig. They fear the
brig because when I am on board her, the brig and I are one. An armed
man--don't you see? Without the brig I am disarmed, without me she can't
strike. So Daman thinks. He does not know everything but he is not far
off the truth. He says to himself that if I man the boats to go after
these whites into the lagoon then his Illanuns will get the yacht for
sure--and perhaps the brig as well. If I stop here with my brig he holds
the two white men and can talk as big as he pleases. Belarab believes in
me no doubt, but Daman trusts no man on earth. He simply does not know
how to trust any one, because he is always plotting himself. He came to
help me and as soon as he found I was not there he began to plot with
Tengga. Now he has made a move--a clever move; a cleverer move than he
thinks. Why? I'll tell you why. Because I, Tom Lingard, haven't a single
white man aboard this brig I can trust. Not one. I only just discovered
my mate's got the notion I am some kind of pirate. And all your yacht
people think the same. It is as though you had brought a curse on me
in your yacht. Nobody believes me. Good God! What have I come to! Even
those two--look at them--I say look at them! By all the stars they doubt
me! Me! . . ."

He pointed at Hassim and Immada. The girl seemed frightened. Hassim
looked on calm and intelligent with inexhaustible patience. Lingard's
voice fell suddenly.

"And by heavens they may be right. Who knows? You? Do you know? They
have waited for years. Look. They are waiting with heavy hearts. Do you
think that I don't care? Ought I to have kept it all in--told no one--no
one--not even you? Are they waiting for what will never come now?"

Mrs. Travers rose and moved quickly round the table. "Can we give
anything to this--this Daman or these other men? We could give them more
than they could think of asking. I--my husband. . . ."

"Don't talk to me of your husband," he said, rou