fter I lost the Flash we got to Palembang in
our boats. I chartered her there, for six months. From young Ford, you
know. Belongs to him. He wanted a spell ashore, so I took charge myself.
Of course all Ford's people on board. Strangers to me. I had to go to
Singapore about the insurance; then I went to Macassar, of course. Had
long passages. No wind. It was like a curse on me. I had lots of trouble
with old Hudig. That delayed me much."

"Ah! Hudig! Why with Hudig?" asked Almayer, in a perfunctory manner.

"Oh! about a . . . a woman," mumbled Lingard.

Almayer looked at him with languid surprise. The old seaman had twisted
his white beard into a point, and now was busy giving his moustaches a
fierce curl. His little red eyes--those eyes that had smarted under the
salt sprays of every sea, that had looked unwinking to windward in the
gales of all latitudes--now glared at Almayer from behind the lowered
eyebrows like a pair of frightened wild beasts crouching in a bush.

"Extraordinary! So like you! What can you have to do with Hudig's women?
The old sinner!" said Almayer, negligently.

"What are you talking about! Wife of a friend of . . . I mean of a man I
know . . ."

"Still, I don't see . . ." interjected Almayer carelessly.

"Of a man you know too. Well. Very well."

"I knew so many men before you made me bury myself in this hole!"
growled Almayer, unamiably. "If she had anything to do with Hudig--that
wife--then she can't be up to much. I would be sorry for the man,"
added Almayer, brightening up with the recollection of the scandalous
tittle-tattle of the past, when he was a young man in the second capital
of the Islands--and so well informed, so well informed. He laughed.
Lingard's frown deepened.

"Don't talk foolish! It's Willems' wife."

Almayer grasped the sides of his seat, his eyes and mouth opened wide.

"What? Why!" he exclaimed, bewildered.

"Willems'--wife," repeated Lingard distinctly. "You ain't deaf, are you?
The wife of Willems. Just so. As to why! There was a promise. And I did
not know what had happened here."

"What is it. You've been giving her money, I bet," cried Almayer.

"Well, no!" said Lingard, deliberately. "Although I suppose I shall have
to . . ."

Almayer groaned.

"The fact is," went on Lingard, speaking slowly and steadily, "the fact
is that I have . . . I have brought her here. Here. To Sambir."

"In heaven's name! why?" shouted Almayer, jumping up. The chair til