PART IV. THE GIFT OF THE SHALLOWS
I
Lingard brought Mrs. Travers away from the yacht, going alone with herin the little boat. During the bustle of the embarkment, and till thelast of the crew had left the schooner, he had remained towering andsilent by her side. It was only when the murmuring and uneasy voicesof the sailors going away in the boats had been completely lost in thedistance that his voice was heard, grave in the silence, pronouncing thewords--"Follow me." She followed him; their footsteps rang hollow andloud on the empty deck. At the bottom of the steps he turned round andsaid very low:
"Take care."
He got into the boat and held on. It seemed to him that she wasintimidated by the darkness. She felt her arm gripped firmly--"I've gotyou," he said. She stepped in, headlong, trusting herself blindly to hisgrip, and sank on the stern seat catching her breath a little. She hearda slight splash, and the indistinct side of the deserted yacht meltedsuddenly into the body of the night.
Rowing, he faced her, a hooded and cloaked shape, and above her head hehad before his eyes the gleam of the stern lantern expiring slowly onthe abandoned vessel. When it went out without a warning flicker hecould see nothing of the stranded yacht's outline. She had vanishedutterly like a dream; and the occurrences of the last twenty-four hoursseemed also to be a part of a vanished dream. The hooded and cloakedfigure was part of it, too. It spoke not; it moved not; it would vanishpresently. Lingard tried to remember Mrs. Travers' features, even asshe sat within two feet of him in the boat. He seemed to have takenfrom that vanished schooner not a woman but a memory--the tormentingrecollection of a human being he would see no more.
At every stroke of the short sculls Mrs. Travers felt the boat leapforward with her. Lingard, to keep his direction, had to look over hisshoulder frequently--"You will be safe in the brig," he said. She wassilent. A dream! A dream! He lay back vigorously; the water slappedloudly against the blunt bows. The ruddy glow thrown afar by the flareswas reflected deep within the hood. The dream had a pale visage, thememory had living eyes.
"I had to come for you myself," he said.
"I expected it of you." These were the first words he had heard her saysince they had met for the third time.
"And I swore--before you, too--that I would never put my foot on boardyour craft."
"It was good of you to--" she began.
"I forgot somehow," he said, simply.
"I expected it of you," she repeated. He gave three quick strokes beforehe asked very gently:
"What more do you expect?"
"Everything," she said. He was rounding then the stern of the brig andhad to look away. Then he turned to her.
"And you trust me to--" he exclaimed.
"I would like to trust you," she interrupted, "because--"
Above them a startled voice cried in Malay, "Captain coming." Thestrange sound silenced her. Lingard laid in his sculls and she sawherself gliding under the high side of the brig. A dark, staring faceappeared very near her eyes, black fingers caught the gunwale of theboat. She stood up swaying. "Take care," said Lingard again, but thistime, in the light, did not offer to help her. She went up alone and hefollowed her over the rail.
The quarter-deck was thronged by men of two races. Lingard and Mrs.Travers crossed it rapidly between the groups that moved out of theway on their passage. Lingard threw open the cabin door for her, butremained on deck to inquire about his boats. They had returned while hewas on board the yacht, and the two men in charge of them came aft tomake their reports. The boat sent north had seen nothing. The boatwhich had been directed to explore the banks and islets to the south hadactually been in sight of Daman's praus. The man in charge reportedthat several fires were burning on the shore, the crews of the two prausbeing encamped on a sandbank. Cooking was going on. They had been nearenough to hear the voices. There was a man keeping watch on the ridge;they knew this because they heard him shouting to the people below, bythe fires. Lingard wanted to know how they had managed to remain unseen."The night was our hiding place," answered the man in his deep growlingvoice. He knew nothing of any white men being in Daman's camp. Whyshould there be? Rajah Hassim and the Lady, his sister, appearedunexpectedly near his boat in their canoe. Rajah Hassim had ordered himthen in whispers to go back to the brig at once, and tell Tuan what hehad observed. Rajah Hassim said also that he would return to the brigwith more news very soon. He obeyed because the Rajah was to him aperson of authority, "having the perfect knowledge of Tuan's mind as weall know."--"Enough," cried Lingard, suddenly.
The man looked up heavily for a moment, and retreated forward withoutanother word. Lingard followed him with irritated eyes. A new power hadcome into the world, had possessed itself of human speech, had impartedto it a sinister irony of allusion. To be told that someone had "aperfect knowledge of his mind" startled him and made him wince. It madehim aware that now he did not know his mind himself--that it seemedimpossible for him ever to regain that knowledge. And the new power notonly had cast its spell upon the words he had to hear, but also upon thefacts that assailed him, upon the people he saw, upon the thoughts hehad to guide, upon the feelings he had to bear. They remained whatthey had ever been--the visible surface of life open in the sun to theconquering tread of an unfettered will. Yesterday they could have beendiscerned clearly, mastered and despised; but now another power had comeinto the world, and had cast over them all the wavering gloom of a darkand inscrutable purpose.