ef of the Illanuns and by this simple proceeding
detach him completely from Tengga. Why should he, Belarab, go to war
against half the Settlement on their account? It was not necessary, it
was not reasonable. It would be even in a manner a sin to begin a strife
in a community of True Believers. Whereas with an offer like that in his
hand he could send an embassy to Tengga who would see there at once the
downfall of his purposes and the end of his hopes. At once! That moment!
. . . Afterward the question of a ransom could be arranged with Daman in
which he, Belarab, would mediate in the fullness of his recovered power,
without a rival and in the sincerity of his heart. And then, if need be,
he could put forth all his power against the chief of the sea-vagabonds
who would, as a matter of fact, be negotiating under the shadow of the
sword.

Belarab talked, low-voiced and dignified, with now and then a subtle
intonation, a persuasive inflexion or a half-melancholy smile in the
course of the argument. What encouraged him most was the changed aspect
of his white friend. The fierce power of his personality seemed to have
turned into a dream. Lingard listened, growing gradually inscrutable in
his continued silence, but remaining gentle in a sort of rapt patience
as if lapped in the wings of the Angel of Peace himself. Emboldened by
that transformation, Belarab's counsellors seated on the mats murmured
loudly their assent to the views of the Chief. Through the thickening
white mist of tropical lands, the light of the tropical day filtered
into the hall. One of the wise men got up from the floor and with
prudent fingers began extinguishing the waxlights one by one. He
hesitated to touch the lamps, the flames of which looked yellow and
cold. A puff of the morning breeze entered the great room, faint and
chill. Lingard, facing Belarab in a wooden armchair, with slack
limbs and in the divine emptiness of a mind enchanted by a glimpse of
Paradise, shuddered profoundly.

A strong voice shouted in the doorway without any ceremony and with a
sort of jeering accent:

"Tengga's boats are out in the mist."

Lingard half rose from his seat, Belarab himself could not repress a
start. Lingard's attitude was a listening one, but after a moment
of hesitation he ran out of the hall. The inside of the stockade was
beginning to buzz like a disturbed hive.

Outside Belarab's house Lingard slowed his pace. The mist still hung. A
great sustaine