He
would test him now in that way. He said negligently--

"I want you to start at once for the camp, with surat for the Kavitan.
One dollar a day."

The man appeared plunged in dull hesitation, but Almayer, who knew his
Malays, felt pretty sure from his aspect that nothing would induce the
fellow to go. He urged--

"It is important--and if you are swift I shall give two dollars for the
last day."

"No, Tuan. We do not go," said the man, in a hoarse whisper.

"Why?"

"We start on another journey."

"Where?"

"To a place we know of," said Mahmat, a little louder, in a stubborn
manner, and looking at the floor.

Almayer experienced a feeling of immense joy. He said, with affected
annoyance--

"You men live in my house and it is as if it were your own. I may want
my house soon."

Mahmat looked up.

"We are men of the sea and care not for a roof when we have a canoe that
will hold three, and a paddle apiece. The sea is our house. Peace be
with you, Tuan."

He turned and went away rapidly, and Almayer heard him directly
afterwards in the courtyard calling to the watchman to open the gate.
Mahmat passed through the gate in silence, but before the bar had been
put up behind him he had made up his mind that if the white man ever
wanted to eject him from his hut, he would burn it and also as many of
the white man's other buildings as he could safely get at. And he began
to call his brothers before he was inside the dilapidated dwelling.

"All's well!" muttered Almayer to himself, taking some loose Java
tobacco from a drawer in the table. "Now if anything comes out I am
clear. I asked the man to go up the river. I urged him. He will say so
himself. Good."

He began to charge the china bowl of his pipe, a pipe with a long cherry
stem and a curved mouthpiece, pressing the tobacco down with his thumb
and thinking: No. I sha'n't see her again. Don't want to. I will give
her a good start, then go in chase--and send an express boat after
father. Yes! that's it.

He approached the door of the office and said, holding his pipe away
from his lips--

"Good luck to you, Mrs. Willems. Don't lose any time. You may get along
by the bushes; the fence there is out of repair. Don't lose time. Don't
forget that it is a matter of . . . life and death. And don't forget
that I know nothing. I trust you."

He heard inside a noise as of a chest-lid falling down. She made a few
steps. Then a sigh, profound and long, and some f