th the fixed idea of getting
out of sight of the busy river, he would land and follow the narrow and
winding path, only to find that it led nowhere, ending abruptly in
the discouragement of thorny thickets. He would go back slowly, with a
bitter sense of unreasonable disappointment and sadness; oppressed by
the hot smell of earth, dampness, and decay in that forest which seemed
to push him mercilessly back into the glittering sunshine of the
river. And he would recommence paddling with tired arms to seek another
opening, to find another deception.

As he paddled up to the point where the Rajah's stockade came down to
the river, the nipas were left behind rattling their leaves over the
brown water, and the big trees would appear on the bank, tall, strong,
indifferent in the immense solidity of their life, which endures for
ages, to that short and fleeting life in the heart of the man who crept
painfully amongst their shadows in search of a refuge from the unceasing
reproach of his thoughts. Amongst their smooth trunks a clear brook
meandered for a time in twining lacets before it made up its mind to
take a leap into the hurrying river, over the edge of the steep bank.
There was also a pathway there and it seemed frequented. Willems landed,
and following the capricious promise of the track soon found himself in
a comparatively clear space, where the confused tracery of sunlight fell
through the branches and the foliage overhead, and lay on the stream
that shone in an easy curve like a bright sword-blade dropped amongst
the long and feathery grass.

Further on, the path continued, narrowed again in the thick undergrowth.
At the end of the first turning Willems saw a flash of white and colour,
a gleam of gold like a sun-ray lost in shadow, and a vision of blackness
darker than the deepest shade of the forest. He stopped, surprised,
and fancied he had heard light footsteps--growing lighter--ceasing.
He looked around. The grass on the bank of the stream trembled and a
tremulous path of its shivering, silver-grey tops ran from the water to
the beginning of the thicket. And yet there was not a breath of wind.
Somebody kind passed there. He looked pensive while the tremor died out
in a quick tremble under his eyes; and the grass stood high, unstirring,
with drooping heads in the warm and motionless air.

He hurried on, driven by a suddenly awakened curiosity, and entered the
narrow way between the bushes. At the next turn of t