ning incense before a
shrine, a diaphanous shrine of a child-idol with closed eyes; before a
pure and vaporous shrine of a small god--fragile, powerless, unconscious
and sleeping.

When Ali, roused by loud and repeated shouting of his name, stumbled
outside the door of his hut, he saw a narrow streak of trembling gold
above the forests and a pale sky with faded stars overhead: signs of the
coming day. His master stood before the door waving a piece of paper in
his hand and shouting excitedly--"Quick, Ali! Quick!" When he saw his
servant he rushed forward, and pressing the paper on him objurgated him,
in tones which induced Ali to think that something awful had happened,
to hurry up and get the whale-boat ready to go immediately--at once,
at once--after Captain Lingard. Ali remonstrated, agitated also, having
caught the infection of distracted haste.

"If must go quick, better canoe. Whale-boat no can catch, same as small
canoe."

"No, no! Whale-boat! whale-boat! You dolt! you wretch!" howled Almayer,
with all the appearance of having gone mad. "Call the men! Get along
with it. Fly!"

And Ali rushed about the courtyard kicking the doors of huts open to put
his head in and yell frightfully inside; and as he dashed from hovel
to hovel, men shivering and sleepy were coming out, looking after him
stupidly, while they scratched their ribs with bewildered apathy. It was
hard work to put them in motion. They wanted time to stretch themselves
and to shiver a little. Some wanted food. One said he was sick. Nobody
knew where the rudder was. Ali darted here and there, ordering, abusing,
pushing one, then another, and stopping in his exertions at times to
wring his hands hastily and groan, because the whale-boat was much
slower than the worst canoe and his master would not listen to his
protestations.

Almayer saw the boat go off at last, pulled anyhow by men that were
cold, hungry, and sulky; and he remained on the jetty watching it down
the reach. It was broad day then, and the sky was perfectly cloudless.
Almayer went up to the house for a moment. His household was all astir
and wondering at the strange disappearance of the Sirani woman, who had
taken her child and had left her luggage. Almayer spoke to no one, got
his revolver, and went down to the river again. He jumped into a
small canoe and paddled himself towards the schooner. He worked very
leisurely, but as soon as he was nearly alongside he began to hail
the silent