n!
All Tengga desires is a long talk. He has sent me to ask you to come
ashore."

At these words Jorgenson's heart sank a little. This invitation meant
that Lingard had made no move. Was Tom asleep or altogether mad?

"The talk would be of peace," declared impressively the shadow which had
drifted much closer to the hulk now.

"It isn't for me to talk with great chiefs," Jorgenson returned,
cautiously.

"But Tengga is a friend," argued the nocturnal messenger. "And by that
fire there are other friends--your friends, the Rajah Hassim and the
lady Immada, who send you their greetings and who expect their eyes to
rest on you before sunrise."

"That's a lie," remarked Jorgenson, perfunctorily, and fell into
thought, while the shadowy bearer of words preserved a scandalized
silence, though, of course, he had not expected to be believed for a
moment. But one could never tell what a white man would believe. He
had wanted to produce the impression that Hassim and Immada were the
honoured guests of Tengga. It occurred to him suddenly that perhaps
Jorgenson didn't know anything of the capture. And he persisted.

"My words are all true, Tuan. The Rajah of Wajo and his sister are with
my master. I left them sitting by the fire on Tengga's right hand. Will
you come ashore to be welcomed amongst friends?"

Jorgenson had been reflecting profoundly. His object was to gain as much
time as possible for Lingard's interference which indeed could not fail
to be effective. But he had not the slightest wish to entrust himself to
Tengga's friendliness. Not that he minded the risk; but he did not see
the use of taking it.

"No!" he said, "I can't go ashore. We white men have ways of our own
and I am chief of this hulk. And my chief is the Rajah Laut, a white man
like myself. All the words that matter are in him and if Tengga is such
a great chief let him ask the Rajah Laut for a talk. Yes, that's the
proper thing for Tengga to do if he is such a great chief as he says."

"The Rajah Laut has made his choice. He dwells with Belarab, and with
the white people who are huddled together like trapped deer in Belarab's
stockade. Why shouldn't you meantime go over where everything is lighted
up and open and talk in friendship with Tengga's friends, whose hearts
have been made sick by many doubts; Rajah Hassim and the lady Immada and
Daman, the chief of the men of the sea, who do not know now whom they
can trust unless it be you, Tuan, the kee