On the fourth side, following the curve of the bank of that branch of the Pantai that formed the only access to the clearing, ran a black line of young trees, bushes, and thick second growth, unbroken save for a small gap chopped out in one place. At that gap began the narrow footpath8 leading from the water’s edge to the grass-built shelter used by the night watchers when the ripening9 crop had to be protected from the wild pigs. The pathway ended at the foot of the piles on which the hut was built, in a circular space covered with ashes and bits of burnt wood. In the middle of that space, by the dim fire, lay Dain.
He turned over on his side with an impatient sigh, and, pillowing his head on his bent10 arm, lay quietly with his face to the dying fire. The glowing embers shone redly in a small circle, throwing a gleam into his wide-open eyes, and at every deep breath the fine white ash of bygone fires rose in a light cloud before his parted lips, and danced away from the warm glow into the moonbeams pouring down upon Bulangi’s clearing. His body was weary with the exertion11 of the past few days, his mind more weary still with the strain of solitary12 waiting for his fate. Never before had he felt so helpless. He had heard the report of the gun fired on board the launch, and he knew that his life was in untrustworthy hands, and that his enemies were very near. During the slow hours of the afternoon he roamed about on the edge of the forest, or, hiding in the bushes, watched the creek13 with unquiet eyes for some sign of danger. He feared not death, yet he desired ardently14 to live, for life to him was Nina. She had promised to come, to follow him, to share his danger and his splendour. But with her by his side he cared not for danger, and without her there could be no splendour and no joy in existence.
Crouching15 in his shady hiding-place, he closed his eyes, trying to evoke16 the gracious and charming image of the white figure that for him was the beginning and the end of life. With eyes shut tight, his teeth hard set, he tried in a great effort of passionate17 will to keep his hold on that vision of supreme18 delight. In vain! His heart grew heavy as the figure of Nina faded away to be replaced by another vision this time—a vision of armed men, of angry faces, of glittering arms—and he seemed to hear the hum of excited and triumphant19 voices as they discovered him in his hiding-place. Startled by the vividness of his fancy, he would open his eyes, and, leaping out into the sunlight, resume his aimless wanderings around the clearing. As he skirted in his weary march the edge of the forest he glanced now and then into its dark shade, so enticing20 in its deceptive appearance of coolness, so repellent with its unrelieved gloom, where lay, entombed and rotting, countless21 generations of trees, and where their successors stood as if mourning, in dark green foliage22, immense and helpless, awaiting their turn. Only the parasites23 seemed to live there in a sinuous24 rush upwards25 into the air and sunshine, feeding on the dead and the dying alike, and crowning their victims with pink and blue flowers that gleamed amongst the boughs, incongruous and cruel, like a strident and mocking note in the solemn harmony of the doomed26 trees.
A man could hide there, thought Dain, as he approached a place where the creepers had been torn and hacked27 into an archway that might have been the beginning of a path. As he bent down to look through he heard angry grunting28, and a sounder of wild pig crashed away in the undergrowth. An acrid29 smell of damp earth and of decaying leaves took him by the throat, and he drew back with a scared face, as if he had been touched by the breath of Death itself. The very air seemed dead in there—heavy and stagnating30, poisoned with the corruption31 of countless ages. He went on, staggering on his way, urged by the nervous restlessness that made him feel tired yet caused him to loathe32 the very idea of immobility and repose33. Was he a wild man to hide in the woods and perhaps be killed there—in the darkness—where there was no room to breathe? He would wait for his enemies in the sunlight, where he could see the sky and feel the breeze. He knew how a Malay chief should die. The sombre and desperate fury, that peculiar34 inheritance of his race, took possession of him, and he glared savagely35 across the clearing towards the gap in the bushes by the riverside. They would come from there. In imagination he saw them now. He saw the bearded faces and the white jackets of the officers, the light on the levelled barrels of the rifles. What is the bravery of the greatest warrior37 before the firearms in the hand of a slave? He would walk toward them with a smiling face, with his hands held out in a sign of submission38 till he was very near them. He would speak friendly words—come nearer yet—yet nearer—so near that they could touch him with their hands and stretch them out to make him a captive. That would be the time: with a shout and a leap he would be in the midst of them, kriss in hand, killing39, killing, killing, and would die with the shouts of his enemies in his ears, their warm blood spurting40 before his eyes.
Carried away by his excitement, he snatched the kriss hidden in his sarong, and, drawing a long breath, rushed forward, struck at the empty air, and fell on his face. He lay as if stunned41 in the sudden reaction from his exaltation, thinking that, even if he died thus gloriously, it would have to be before he saw Nina. Better so. If he saw her again he felt that death would be too terrible. With horror he, the descendant of Rajahs and of conquerors42, had to face the doubt of his own bravery. His desire of life tormented44 him in a paroxysm of agonising remorse45. He had not the courage to stir a limb. He had lost faith in himself, and there was nothing else in him of what makes a man. The suffering remained, for it is ordered that it should abide46 in the human body even to the last breath, and fear remained. Dimly he could look into the depths of his passionate love, see its strength and its weakness, and felt afraid.
The sun went down slowly. The shadow of the western forest marched over the clearing, covered the man’s scorched47 shoulders with its cool mantle48, and went on hurriedly to mingle49 with the shadows of other forests on the eastern side. The sun lingered for a while amongst the light tracery of the higher branches, as if in friendly reluctance50 to abandon the body stretched in the green paddy-field. Then Dain, revived by the cool of the evening breeze, sat up and stared round him. As he did so the sun dipped sharply, as if ashamed of being detected in a sympathising attitude, and the clearing, which during the day was all light, became suddenly all darkness, where the fire gleamed like an eye. Dain walked slowly towards the creek, and, divesting51 himself of his torn sarong, his only garment, entered the water cautiously. He had had nothing to eat that day, and had not dared show himself in daylight by the water-side to drink. Now, as he swam silently, he swallowed a few mouthfuls of water that lapped about his lips. This did him good, and he walked with greater confidence in himself and others as he returned towards the fire. Had he been betrayed by Lakamba all would have been over by this. He made up a big blaze, and while it lasted dried himself, and then lay down by the embers. He could not sleep, but he felt a great numbness52 in all his limbs. His restlessness was gone, and he was content to lay still, measuring the time by watching the stars that rose in endless succession above the forests, while the slight puffs53 of wind under the cloudless sky seemed to fan their twinkle into a greater brightness. Dreamily he assured himself over and over again that she would come, till the certitude crept into his heart and filled him with a great peace. Yes, when the next day broke, they would be together on the great blue sea that was like life—away from the forests that were like death. He murmured the name of Nina into the silent space with a tender smile: this seemed to break the spell of stillness, and far away by the creek a frog croaked55 loudly as if in answer. A chorus of loud roars and plaintive57 calls rose from the mud along the line of bushes. He laughed heartily58; doubtless it was their love-song. He felt affectionate towards the frogs and listened, pleased with the noisy life near him.
When the moon peeped above the trees he felt the old impatience59 and the old restlessness steal over him. Why was she so late? True, it was a long way to come with a single paddle. With what skill and what endurance could those small hands manage a heavy paddle! It was very wonderful—such small hands, such soft little palms that knew how to touch his cheek with a feel lighter60 than the fanning of a butterfly’s wing. Wonderful! He lost himself lovingly in the contemplation of this tremendous mystery, and when he looked at the moon again it had risen a hand’s breadth above the trees. Would she come? He forced himself to lay still, overcoming the impulse to rise and rush round the clearing again. He turned this way and that; at last, quivering with the effort, he lay on his back, and saw her face among the stars looking down on him.
The croaking61 of frogs suddenly ceased. With the watchfulness62 of a hunted man Dain sat up, listening anxiously, and heard several splashes in the water as the frogs took rapid headers into the creek. He knew that they had been alarmed by something, and stood up suspicious and attentive63. A slight grating noise, then the dry sound as of two pieces of wood struck against each other. Somebody was about to land! He took up an armful of brushwood, and, without taking his eyes from the path, held it over the embers of his fire. He waited, undecided, and saw something gleam amongst the bushes; then a white figure came out of the shadows and seemed to float towards him in the pale light. His heart gave a great leap and stood still, then went on shaking his frame in furious beats. He dropped the brushwood upon the glowing coals, and had an impression of shouting her name—of rushing to meet her; yet he emitted no sound, he stirred not an inch, but he stood silent and motionless like chiselled64 bronze under the moonlight that streamed over his naked shoulders. As he stood still, fighting with his breath, as if bereft65 of his senses by the intensity66 of his delight, she walked up to him with quick, resolute67 steps, and, with the appearance of one about to leap from a dangerous height, threw both her arms round his neck with a sudden gesture. A small blue gleam crept amongst the dry branches, and the crackling of reviving fire was the only sound as they faced each other in the speechless emotion of that meeting; then the dry fuel caught at once, and a bright hot flame shot upwards in a blaze as high as their heads, and in its light they saw each other’s eyes.
Neither of them spoke68. He was regaining69 his senses in a slight tremor70 that ran upwards along his rigid71 body and hung about his trembling lips. She drew back her head and fastened her eyes on his in one of those long looks that are a woman’s most terrible weapon; a look that is more stirring than the closest touch, and more dangerous than the thrust of a dagger72, because it also whips the soul out of the body, but leaves the body alive and helpless, to be swayed here and there by the capricious tempests of passion and desire; a look that enwraps the whole body, and that penetrates73 into the innermost recesses74 of the being, bringing terrible defeat in the delirious75 uplifting of accomplished76 conquest. It has the same meaning for the man of the forests and the sea as for the man threading the paths of the more dangerous wilderness77 of houses and streets. Men that had felt in their breasts the awful exultation78 such a look awakens79 become mere80 things of to-day—which is paradise; forget yesterday—which was suffering; care not for to-morrow—which may be perdition. They wish to live under that look for ever. It is the look of woman’s surrender.
He understood, and, as if suddenly released from his invisible bonds, fell at her feet with a shout of joy, and, embracing her knees, hid his head in the folds of her dress, murmuring disjointed words of gratitude81 and love. Never before had he felt so proud as now, when at the feet of that woman that half belonged to his enemies. Her fingers played with his hair in an absent-minded caress82 as she stood absorbed in thought. The thing was done. Her mother was right. The man was her slave. As she glanced down at his kneeling form she felt a great pitying tenderness for that man she was used to call—even in her thoughts—the master of life. She lifted her eyes and looked sadly at the southern heavens under which lay the path of their lives—her own, and that man’s at her feet. Did he not say himself is that she was the light of his life? She would be his light and his wisdom; she would be his greatness and his strength; yet hidden from the eyes of all men she would be, above all, his only and lasting83 weakness. A very woman! In the sublime84 vanity of her kind she was thinking already of moulding a god from the clay at her feet. A god for others to worship. She was content to see him as he was now, and to feel him quiver at the slightest touch of her light fingers. And while her eyes looked sadly at the southern stars a faint smile seemed to be playing about her firm lips. Who can tell in the fitful light of a camp fire? It might have been a smile of triumph, or of conscious power, or of tender pity, or, perhaps, of love.
She spoke softly to him, and he rose to his feet, putting his arm round her in quiet consciousness of his ownership; she laid her head on his shoulder with a sense of defiance85 to all the world in the encircling protection of that arm. He was hers with all his qualities and all his faults. His strength and his courage, his recklessness and his daring, his simple wisdom and his savage36 cunning—all were hers. As they passed together out of the red light of the fire into the silver shower of rays that fell upon the clearing he bent his head over her face, and she saw in his eyes the dreamy intoxication86 of boundless87 felicity from the close touch of her slight figure clasped to his side. With a rhythmical88 swing of their bodies they walked through the light towards the outlying shadows of the forests that seemed to guard their happiness in solemn immobility. Their forms melted in the play of light and shadow at the foot of the big trees, but the murmur54 of tender words lingered over the empty clearing, grew faint, and died out. A sigh as of immense sorrow passed over the land in the last effort of the dying breeze, and in the deep silence which succeeded, the earth and the heavens were suddenly hushed up in the mournful contemplation of human love and human blindness.
They walked slowly back to the fire. He made for her a seat out of the dry branches, and, throwing himself down at her feet, lay his head in her lap and gave himself up to the dreamy delight of the passing hour. Their voices rose and fell, tender or animated89 as they spoke of their love and of their future. She, with a few skilful90 words spoken from time to time, guided his thoughts, and he let his happiness flow in a stream of talk passionate and tender, grave or menacing, according to the mood which she evoked91. He spoke to her of his own island, where the gloomy forests and the muddy rivers were unknown. He spoke of its terraced fields, of the murmuring clear rills of sparkling water that flowed down the sides of great mountains, bringing life to the land and joy to its tillers. And he spoke also of the mountain peak that rising lonely above the belt of trees knew the secrets of the passing clouds, and was the dwelling-place of the mysterious spirit of his race, of the guardian92 genius of his house. He spoke of vast horizons swept by fierce winds that whistled high above the summits of burning mountains. He spoke of his forefathers93 that conquered ages ago the island of which he was to be the future ruler. And then as, in her interest, she brought her face nearer to his, he, touching94 lightly the thick tresses of her long hair, felt a sudden impulse to speak to her of the sea he loved so well; and he told her of its never-ceasing voice, to which he had listened as a child, wondering at its hidden meaning that no living man has penetrated95 yet; of its enchanting96 glitter; of its senseless and capricious fury; how its surface was for ever changing, and yet always enticing, while its depths were for ever the same, cold and cruel, and full of the wisdom of destroyed life. He told her how it held men slaves of its charm for a lifetime, and then, regardless of their devotion, swallowed them up, angry at their fear of its mystery, which it would never disclose, not even to those that loved it most. While he talked, Nina’s head had been gradually sinking lower, and her face almost touched his now. Her hair was over his eyes, her breath was on his forehead, her arms were about his body. No two beings could be closer to each other, yet she guessed rather than understood the meaning of his last words that came out after a slight hesitation97 in a faint murmur, dying out imperceptibly into a profound and significant silence: “The sea, O Nina, is like a woman’s heart.”
She closed his lips with a sudden kiss, and answered in a steady voice—
“But to the men that have no fear, O master of my life, the sea is ever true.”
Over their heads a film of dark, thread-like clouds, looking like immense cobwebs drifting under the stars, darkened the sky with the presage98 of the coming thunderstorm. From the invisible hills the first distant rumble99 of thunder came in a prolonged roll which, after tossing about from hill to hill, lost itself in the forests of the Pantai. Dain and Nina stood up, and the former looked at the sky uneasily.
“It is time for Babalatchi to be here,” he said. “The night is more than half gone. Our road is long, and a bullet travels quicker than the best canoe.”
“He will be here before the moon is hidden behind the clouds,” said Nina. “I heard a splash in the water,” she added. “Did you hear it too?”
“Alligator100,” answered Dain shortly, with a careless glance towards the creek. “The darker the night,” he continued, “the shorter will be our road, for then we could keep in the current of the main stream, but if it is light—even no more than now—we must follow the small channels of sleeping water, with nothing to help our paddles.”
“Dain,” interposed Nina, earnestly, “it was no alligator. I heard the bushes rustling101 near the landing-place.”
“Yes,” said Dain, after listening awhile. “It cannot be Babalatchi, who would come in a big war canoe, and openly. Those that are coming, whoever they are, do not wish to make much noise. But you have heard, and now I can see,” he went on quickly. “It is but one man. Stand behind me, Nina. If he is a friend he is welcome; if he is an enemy you shall see him die.”
He laid his hand on his kriss, and awaited the approach of his unexpected visitor. The fire was burning very low, and small clouds—precursors of the storm—crossed the face of the moon in rapid succession, and their flying shadows darkened the clearing. He could not make out who the man might be, but he felt uneasy at the steady advance of the tall figure walking on the path with a heavy tread, and hailed it with a command to stop. The man stopped at some little distance, and Dain expected him to speak, but all he could hear was his deep breathing. Through a break in the flying clouds a sudden and fleeting102 brightness descended103 upon the clearing. Before the darkness closed in again, Dain saw a hand holding some glittering object extended towards him, heard Nina’s cry of “Father!” and in an instant the girl was between him and Almayer’s revolver. Nina’s loud cry woke up the echoes of the sleeping woods, and the three stood still as if waiting for the return of silence before they would give expression to their various feelings. At the appearance of Nina, Almayer’s arm fell by his side, and he made a step forward. Dain pushed the girl gently aside.
“Am I a wild beast that you should try to kill me suddenly and in the dark, Tuan Almayer?” said Dain, breaking the strained silence. “Throw some brushwood on the fire,” he went on, speaking to Nina, “while I watch my white friend, lest harm should come to you or to me, O delight of my heart!”
Almayer ground his teeth and raised his arm again. With a quick bound Dain was at his side: there was a short scuffle, during which one chamber104 of the revolver went off harmlessly, then the weapon, wrenched105 out of Almayer’s hand, whirled through the air and fell in the bushes. The two men stood close together, breathing hard. The replenished106 fire threw out an unsteady circle of light and shone on the terrified face of Nina, who looked at them with outstretched hands.
“Dain!” she cried out warningly, “Dain!”
He waved his hand towards her in a reassuring107 gesture, and, turning to Almayer, said with great courtesy—
“Now we may talk, Tuan. It is easy to send out death, but can your wisdom recall the life? She might have been harmed,” he continued, indicating Nina. “Your hand shook much; for myself I was not afraid.”
“Nina!” exclaimed Almayer, “come to me at once. What is this sudden madness? What bewitched you? Come to your father, and together we shall try to forget this horrible nightmare!”
He opened his arms with the certitude of clasping her to his breast in another second. She did not move. As it dawned upon him that she did not mean to obey he felt a deadly cold creep into his heart, and, pressing the palms of his hands to his temples, he looked down on the ground in mute despair. Dain took Nina by the arm and led her towards her father.
“Speak to him in the language of his people,” he said. “He is grieving—as who would not grieve at losing thee, my pearl! Speak to him the last words he shall hear spoken by that voice, which must be very sweet to him, but is all my life to me.”
He released her, and, stepping back a few paces out of the circle of light, stood in the darkness looking at them with calm interest. The reflection of a distant flash of lightning lit up the clouds over their heads, and was followed after a short interval108 by the faint rumble of thunder, which mingled109 with Almayer’s voice as he began to speak.
“Do you know what you are doing? Do you know what is waiting for you if you follow that man? Have you no pity for yourself? Do you know that you shall be at first his plaything and then a scorned slave, a drudge110, and a servant of some new fancy of that man?”
She raised her hand to stop him, and turning her head slightly, asked—
“You hear this Dain! Is it true?”
“By all the gods!” came the impassioned answer from the darkness—“by heaven and earth, by my head and thine I swear: this is a white man’s lie. I have delivered my soul into your hands for ever; I breathe with your breath, I see with your eyes, I think with your mind, and I take you into my heart for ever.”
“You thief!” shouted the exasperated111 Almayer.
A deep silence succeeded this outburst, then the voice of Dain was heard again.
“Nay, Tuan,” he said in a gentle tone, “that is not true also. The girl came of her own will. I have done no more but to show her my love like a man; she heard the cry of my heart, and she came, and the dowry I have given to the woman you call your wife.”
Almayer groaned112 in his extremity113 of rage and shame. Nina laid her hand lightly on his shoulder, and the contact, light as the touch of a falling leaf, seemed to calm him. He spoke quickly, and in English this time.
“Tell me,” he said—“tell me, what have they done to you, your mother and that man? What made you give yourself up to that savage? For he is a savage. Between him and you there is a barrier that nothing can remove. I can see in your eyes the look of those who commit suicide when they are mad. You are mad. Don’t smile. It breaks my heart. If I were to see you drowning before my eyes, and I without the power to help you, I could not suffer a greater torment43. Have you forgotten the teaching of so many years?”
“No,” she interrupted, “I remember it well. I remember how it ended also. Scorn for scorn, contempt for contempt, hate for hate. I am not of your race. Between your people and me there is also a barrier that nothing can remove. You ask why I want to go, and I ask you why I should stay.”
He staggered as if struck in the face, but with a quick, unhesitating grasp she caught him by the arm and steadied him.
“Why you should stay!” he repeated slowly, in a dazed manner, and stopped short, astounded114 at the completeness of his misfortune.
“You told me yesterday,” she went on again, “that I could not understand or see your love for me: it is so. How can I? No two human beings understand each other. They can understand but their own voices. You wanted me to dream your dreams, to see your own visions—the visions of life amongst the white faces of those who cast me out from their midst in angry contempt. But while you spoke I listened to the voice of my own self; then this man came, and all was still; there was only the murmur of his love. You call him a savage! What do you call my mother, your wife?”
“Nina!” cried Almayer, “take your eyes off my face.”
She looked down directly, but continued speaking only a little above a whisper.
“In time,” she went on, “both our voices, that man’s and mine, spoke together in a sweetness that was intelligible115 to our ears only. You were speaking of gold then, but our ears were filled with the song of our love, and we did not hear you. Then I found that we could see through each other’s eyes: that he saw things that nobody but myself and he could see. We entered a land where no one could follow us, and least of all you. Then I began to live.”
She paused. Almayer sighed deeply. With her eyes still fixed116 on the ground she began speaking again.
“And I mean to live. I mean to follow him. I have been rejected with scorn by the white people, and now I am a Malay! He took me in his arms, he laid his life at my feet. He is brave; he will be powerful, and I hold his bravery and his strength in my hand, and I shall make him great. His name shall be remembered long after both our bodies are laid in the dust. I love you no less than I did before, but I shall never leave him, for without him I cannot live.”
“If he understood what you have said,” answered Almayer, scornfully, “he must be highly flattered. You want him as a tool for some incomprehensible ambition of yours. Enough, Nina. If you do not go down at once to the creek, where Ali is waiting with my canoe, I shall tell him to return to the settlement and bring the Dutch officers here. You cannot escape from this clearing, for I have cast adrift your canoe. If the Dutch catch this hero of yours they will hang him as sure as I stand here. Now go.”
He made a step towards his daughter and laid hold of her by the shoulder, his other hand pointing down the path to the landing-place.
“Beware!” exclaimed Dain; “this woman belongs to me!”
Nina wrenched herself free and looked straight at Almayer’s angry face.
“No, I will not go,” she said with desperate energy. “If he dies I shall die too!”
“You die!” said Almayer, contemptuously. “Oh, no! You shall live a life of lies and deception117 till some other vagabond comes along to sing; how did you say that? The song of love to you! Make up your mind quickly.”
He waited for a while, and then added meaningly—
“Shall I call out to Ali?”
“Call out,” she answered in Malay, “you that cannot be true to your own countrymen. Only a few days ago you were selling the powder for their destruction; now you want to give up to them the man that yesterday you called your friend. Oh, Dain,” she said, turning towards the motionless but attentive figure in the darkness, “instead of bringing you life I bring you death, for he will betray unless I leave you for ever!”
Dain came into the circle of light, and, throwing his arm around Nina’s neck, whispered in her ear—“I can kill him where he stands, before a sound can pass his lips. For you it is to say yes or no. Babalatchi cannot be far now.”
He straightened himself up, taking his arm off her shoulder, and confronted Almayer, who looked at them both with an expression of concentrated fury.
“No!” she cried, clinging to Dain in wild alarm. “No! Kill me! Then perhaps he will let you go. You do not know the mind of a white man. He would rather see me dead than standing118 where I am. Forgive me, your slave, but you must not.” She fell at his feet sobbing119 violently and repeating, “Kill me! Kill me!”
“I want you alive,” said Almayer, speaking also in Malay, with sombre calmness. “You go, or he hangs. Will you obey?”
Dain shook Nina off, and, making a sudden lunge, struck Almayer full in the chest with the handle of his kriss, keeping the point towards himself.
“Hai, look! It was easy for me to turn the point the other way,” he said in his even voice. “Go, Tuan Putih,” he added with dignity. “I give you your life, my life, and her life. I am the slave of this woman’s desire, and she wills it so.”
There was not a glimmer120 of light in the sky now, and the tops of the trees were as invisible as their trunks, being lost in the mass of clouds that hung low over the woods, the clearing, and the river.
Every outline had disappeared in the intense blackness that seemed to have destroyed everything but space. Only the fire glimmered121 like a star forgotten in this annihilation of all visible things, and nothing was heard after Dain ceased speaking but the sobs122 of Nina, whom he held in his arms, kneeling beside the fire. Almayer stood looking down at them in gloomy thoughtfulness. As he was opening his lips to speak they were startled by a cry of warning by the riverside, followed by the splash of many paddles and the sound of voices.
“Babalatchi!” shouted Dain, lifting up Nina as he got upon his feet quickly.
“Ada! Ada!” came the answer from the panting statesman who ran up the path and stood amongst them. “Run to my canoe,” he said to Dain excitedly, without taking any notice of Almayer. “Run! we must go. That woman has told them all!”
“What woman?” asked Dain, looking at Nina. Just then there was only one woman in the whole world for him.
“The she-dog with white teeth; the seven times accursed slave of Bulangi. She yelled at Abdulla’s gate till she woke up all Sambir. Now the white officers are coming, guided by her and Reshid. If you want to live, do not look at me, but go!”
“How do you know this?” asked Almayer.
“Oh, Tuan! what matters how I know! I have only one eye, but I saw lights in Abdulla’s house and in his campong as we were paddling past. I have ears, and while we lay under the bank I have heard the messengers sent out to the white men’s house.”
“Will you depart without that woman who is my daughter?” said Almayer, addressing Dain, while Babalatchi stamped with impatience, muttering, “Run! Run at once!”
He clasped her close, looking at her tenderly, and whispered, “We will never part, O Nina!”
“I shall not stay here any longer,” broke in Babalatchi, angrily. “This is great foolishness. No woman is worth a man’s life. I am an old man, and I know.”
He picked up his staff, and, turning to go, looked at Dain as if offering him his last chance of escape. But Dain’s face was hidden amongst Nina’s black tresses, and he did not see this last appealing glance.
Babalatchi vanished in the darkness. Shortly after his disappearance125 they heard the war canoe leave the landing-place in the swish of the numerous paddles dipped in the water together. Almost at the same time Ali came up from the riverside, two paddles on his shoulder.
“Our canoe is hidden up the creek, Tuan Almayer,” he said, “in the dense126 bush where the forest comes down to the water. I took it there because I heard from Babalatchi’s paddlers that the white men are coming here.”
“Wait for me there,” said Almayer, “but keep the canoe hidden.”
He remained silent, listening to Ali’s footsteps, then turned to Nina.
“Nina,” he said sadly, “will you have no pity for me?”
There was no answer. She did not even turn her head, which was pressed close to Dain’s breast.
He made a movement as if to leave them and stopped. By the dim glow of the burning-out fire he saw their two motionless figures. The woman’s back turned to him with the long black hair streaming down over the white dress, and Dain’s calm face looking at him above her head.
“I cannot,” he muttered to himself. After a long pause he spoke again a little lower, but in an unsteady voice, “It would be too great a disgrace. I am a white man.” He broke down completely there, and went on tearfully, “I am a white man, and of good family. Very good family,” he repeated, weeping bitterly. “It would be a disgrace . . . all over the islands, . . . the only white man on the east coast. No, it cannot be . . . white men finding my daughter with this Malay. My daughter!” he cried aloud, with a ring of despair in his voice.
He recovered his composure after a while and said distinctly—
“I will never forgive you, Nina—never! If you were to come back to me now, the memory of this night would poison all my life. I shall try to forget. I have no daughter. There used to be a half-caste woman in my house, but she is going even now. You, Dain, or whatever your name may be, I shall take you and that woman to the island at the mouth of the river myself. Come with me.”
He led the way, following the bank as far as the forest. Ali answered to his call, and, pushing their way through the dense bush, they stepped into the canoe hidden under the overhanging branches. Dain laid Nina in the bottom, and sat holding her head on his knees. Almayer and Ali each took up a paddle. As they were going to push out Ali hissed127 warningly. All listened.
In the great stillness before the bursting out of the thunderstorm they could hear the sound of oars56 working regularly in their row-locks. The sound approached steadily, and Dain, looking through the branches, could see the faint shape of a big white boat. A woman’s voice said in a cautious tone—
“There is the place where you may land white men; a little higher—there!”
The boat was passing them so close in the narrow creek that the blades of the long oars nearly touched the canoe.
“Way enough! Stand by to jump on shore! He is alone and unarmed,” was the quiet order in a man’s voice, and in Dutch.
Somebody else whispered: “I think I can see a glimmer of a fire through the bush.” And then the boat floated past them, disappearing instantly in the darkness.
“Now,” whispered Ali, eagerly, “let us push out and paddle away.”
The little canoe swung into the stream, and as it sprung forward in response to the vigorous dig of the paddles they could hear an angry shout.
“He is not by the fire. Spread out, men, and search for him!”
Blue lights blazed out in different parts of the clearing, and the shrill128 voice of a woman cried in accents of rage and pain—
“Too late! O senseless white men! He has escaped!”
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1
iridescence
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| n.彩虹色；放光彩；晕色；晕彩 | |
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deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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3
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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4
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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thorny
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| adj.多刺的，棘手的 | |
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6
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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ripening
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的现在分词 )；熟化；熟成 | |
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10
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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12
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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13
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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14
ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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15
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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16
evoke
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| vt.唤起，引起，使人想起 | |
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17
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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18
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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20
enticing
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| adj.迷人的；诱人的 | |
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21
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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22
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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23
parasites
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| 寄生物( parasite的名词复数 )； 靠他人为生的人； 诸虫 | |
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24
sinuous
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| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
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25
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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26
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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27
hacked
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| 生气 | |
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grunting
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| 咕哝的，呼噜的 | |
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29
acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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30
stagnating
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| v.停滞，不流动，不发展( stagnate的现在分词 ) | |
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31
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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32
loathe
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| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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34
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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35
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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36
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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37
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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38
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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39
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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40
spurting
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| （液体，火焰等）喷出，（使）涌出( spurt的现在分词 )； （短暂地）加速前进，冲刺； 溅射 | |
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41
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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42
conquerors
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| 征服者，占领者( conqueror的名词复数 ) | |
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43
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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44
tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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45
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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46
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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47
scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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48
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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49
mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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50
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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51
divesting
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| v.剥夺( divest的现在分词 )；脱去（衣服）；2。从…取去…；1。（给某人）脱衣服 | |
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52
numbness
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| n.无感觉，麻木，惊呆 | |
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53
puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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54
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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55
croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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56
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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57
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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58
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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59
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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60
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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61
croaking
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的现在分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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62
watchfulness
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| 警惕，留心； 警觉（性） | |
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63
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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64
chiselled
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| adj.凿过的，凿光的； （文章等）精心雕琢的v.凿，雕，镌( chisel的过去式 ) | |
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65
bereft
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| adj.被剥夺的 | |
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66
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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67
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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68
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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69
regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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70
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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71
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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72
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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73
penetrates
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| v.穿过( penetrate的第三人称单数 )；刺入；了解；渗透 | |
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74
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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75
delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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76
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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77
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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78
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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79
awakens
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的第三人称单数 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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80
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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81
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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82
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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83
lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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84
sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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85
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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86
intoxication
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| n.wild excitement;drunkenness；poisoning | |
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87
boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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88
rhythmical
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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89
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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90
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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91
evoked
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| [医]诱发的 | |
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92
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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93
forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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94
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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95
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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96
enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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97
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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98
presage
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| n.预感，不祥感；v.预示 | |
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99
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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100
alligator
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| n.短吻鳄(一种鳄鱼) | |
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101
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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102
fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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103
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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104
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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105
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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106
replenished
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| 补充( replenish的过去式和过去分词 )； 重新装满 | |
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107
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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108
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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109
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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110
drudge
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| n.劳碌的人；v.做苦工，操劳 | |
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111
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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112
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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113
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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114
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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115
intelligible
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| adj.可理解的，明白易懂的，清楚的 | |
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116
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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117
deception
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| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
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118
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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119
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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120
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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121
glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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122
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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123
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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124
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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125
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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126
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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127
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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128
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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