and made her grovel in the dust. Nobody knows exactly what it was
about. Some say it was about that flag. He carried her off, flung her
into a canoe, and went on board Abdulla's ship. After that Sahamin
was the first to salaam to the flag. Others followed suit. Before noon
everything was quiet in the settlement, and Ali came back and told me
all this."

Almayer drew a long breath. Lingard stretched out his legs.

"Go on!" he said.

Almayer seemed to struggle with himself. At last he spluttered out:

"The hardest is to tell yet. The most unheard-of thing! An outrage! A
fiendish outrage!"

CHAPTER THREE

"Well! Let's know all about it. I can't imagine . . ." began Lingard,
after waiting for some time in silence.

"Can't imagine! I should think you couldn't," interrupted Almayer. "Why!
. . . You just listen. When Ali came back I felt a little easier in my
mind. There was then some semblance of order in Sambir. I had the Jack
up since the morning and began to feel safer. Some of my men turned up
in the afternoon. I did not ask any questions; set them to work as if
nothing had happened. Towards the evening--it might have been five or
half-past--I was on our jetty with the child when I heard shouts at the
far-off end of the settlement. At first I didn't take much notice. By
and by Ali came to me and says, 'Master, give me the child, there is
much trouble in the settlement.' So I gave him Nina and went in, took
my revolver, and passed through the house into the back courtyard. As
I came down the steps I saw all the serving girls clear out from the
cooking shed, and I heard a big crowd howling on the other side of
the dry ditch which is the limit of our ground. Could not see them on
account of the fringe of bushes along the ditch, but I knew that crowd
was angry and after somebody. As I stood wondering, that Jim-Eng--you
know the Chinaman who settled here a couple of years ago?"

"He was my passenger; I brought him here," exclaimed Lingard. "A
first-class Chinaman that."

"Did you? I had forgotten. Well, that Jim-Eng, he burst through the bush
and fell into my arms, so to speak. He told me, panting, that they were
after him because he wouldn't take off his hat to the flag. He was not
so much scared, but he was very angry and indignant. Of course he had to
run for it; there were some fifty men after him--Lakamba's friends--but
he was full of fight. Said he was an Englishman, and would not take off
his hat to an