ly
morning the Dutch ship get lumberingly under weigh, bound for the
eastern ports. Very late in the evening of the same day he stood on the
quay of the landing canal, ready to go on board of his brig. The night
was starry and clear; the little custom-house building was shut up, and
as the gharry that brought him down disappeared up the long avenue of
dusty trees leading to the town, Lingard thought himself alone on the
quay. He roused up his sleeping boat-crew and stood waiting for them to
get ready, when he felt a tug at his coat and a thin voice said, very
distinctly--

"English captain."

Lingard turned round quickly, and what seemed to be a very lean boy
jumped back with commendable activity.

"Who are you? Where do you spring from?" asked Lingard, in startled
surprise.

From a safe distance the boy pointed toward a cargo lighter moored to
the quay.

"Been hiding there, have you?" said Lingard. "Well, what do you want?
Speak out, confound you. You did not come here to scare me to death, for
fun, did you?"

The boy tried to explain in imperfect English, but very soon Lingard
interrupted him.

"I see," he exclaimed, "you ran away from the big ship that sailed this
morning. Well, why don't you go to your countrymen here?"

"Ship gone only a little way--to Sourabaya. Make me go back to the
ship," explained the boy.

"Best thing for you," affirmed Lingard with conviction.

"No," retorted the boy; "me want stop here; not want go home. Get money
here; home no good."

"This beats all my going a-fishing," commented the astonished Lingard.
"It's money you want? Well! well! And you were not afraid to run away,
you bag of bones, you!"

The boy intimated that he was frightened of nothing but of being sent
back to the ship. Lingard looked at him in meditative silence.

"Come closer," he said at last. He took the boy by the chin, and turning
up his face gave him a searching look. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"There's not much of you for seventeen. Are you hungry?"

"A little."

"Will you come with me, in that brig there?"

The boy moved without a word towards the boat and scrambled into the
bows.

"Knows his place," muttered Lingard to himself as he stepped heavily
into the stern sheets and took up the yoke lines. "Give way there."

The Malay boat crew lay back together, and the gig sprang away from the
quay heading towards the brig's riding light.

Such was the beginning of Willems' career.