en by the rapid flight of high and invisible vapours.

Almayer fought with the uneasiness within his breast. He heard Ali,
who moved behind him preparing his evening meal, and he listened with
strange attention to the sounds the man made--to the short, dry bang
of the plate put upon the table, to the clink of glass and the metallic
rattle of knife and fork. The man went away. Now he was coming back. He
would speak directly; and Almayer, notwithstanding the absorbing gravity
of his thoughts, listened for the sound of expected words. He heard
them, spoken in English with painstaking distinctness.

"Ready, sir!"

"All right," said Almayer, curtly. He did not move. He remained pensive,
with his back to the table upon which stood the lighted lamp brought
by Ali. He was thinking: "Where was Lingard now? Halfway down the
river probably, in Abdulla's ship. He would be back in about three
days--perhaps less. And then? Then the schooner would have to be got out
of the river, and when that craft was gone they--he and Lingard--would
remain here; alone with the constant thought of that other man, that
other man living near them! What an extraordinary idea to keep him
there for ever. For ever! What did that mean--for ever? Perhaps a year,
perhaps ten years. Preposterous! Keep him there ten years--or may be
twenty! The fellow was capable of living more than twenty years. And for
all that time he would have to be watched, fed, looked after. There was
nobody but Lingard to have such notions. Twenty years! Why, no! In less
than ten years their fortune would be made and they would leave this
place, first for Batavia--yes, Batavia--and then for Europe. England,
no doubt. Lingard would want to go to England. And would they leave that
man here? How would that fellow look in ten years? Very old probably.
Well, devil take him. Nina would be fifteen. She would be rich and very
pretty and he himself would not be so old then. . . ."

Almayer smiled into the night.

. . . Yes, rich! Why! Of course! Captain Lingard was a resourceful man,
and he had plenty of money even now. They were rich already; but not
enough. Decidedly not enough. Money brings money. That gold business was
good. Famous! Captain Lingard was a remarkable man. He said the gold was
there--and it was there. Lingard knew what he was talking about. But he
had queer ideas. For instance, about Willems. Now what did he want to
keep him alive for? Why?

"That scoundrel," muttered Al