He
haunted the decks of that hulk aimlessly. . . .

It was, however, in pursuance of a very distinct aim that Jorgenson had
gone forward again to seek Jaffir.

The first remark he had to offer to Jaffir's consideration was that
the only person in the world who had the remotest chance of reaching
Belarab's gate on that night was that tall white woman the Rajah Laut
had brought on board, the wife of one of the captive white chiefs.
Surprise made Jaffir exclaim, but he wasn't prepared to deny that. It
was possible that for many reasons, some quite simple and others very
subtle, those sons of the Evil One belonging to Tengga and Daman would
refrain from killing a white woman walking alone from the water's
edge to Belarab's gate. Yes, it was just possible that she might walk
unharmed.

"Especially if she carried a blazing torch," muttered Jorgenson in his
moustache. He told Jaffir that she was sitting now in the dark, mourning
silently in the manner of white women. She had made a great outcry in
the morning to be allowed to join the white men on shore. He, Jorgenson,
had refused her the canoe. Ever since she had secluded herself in the
deckhouse in great distress.

Jaffir listened to it all without particular sympathy. And when
Jorgenson added, "It is in my mind, O Jaffir, to let her have her will
now," he answered by a "Yes, by Allah! let her go. What does it matter?"
of the greatest unconcern, till Jorgenson added:

"Yes. And she may carry the ring to the Rajah Laut."

Jorgenson saw Jaffir, the grim and impassive Jaffir, give a perceptible
start. It seemed at first an impossible task to persuade Jaffir to part
with the ring. The notion was too monstrous to enter his mind, to move
his heart. But at last he surrendered in an awed whisper, "God is great.
Perhaps it is her destiny."

Being a Wajo man he did not regard women as untrustworthy or unequal
to a task requiring courage and judgment. Once he got over the personal
feeling he handed the ring to Jorgenson with only one reservation, "You
know, Tuan, that she must on no account put it on her finger."

"Let her hang it round her neck," suggested Jorgenson, readily.

As Jorgenson moved toward the deckhouse it occurred to him that perhaps
now that woman Tom Lingard had taken in tow might take it into her head
to refuse to leave the Emma. This did not disturb him very much. All
those people moved in the dark. He himself at that particular moment was
moving in the da