The hum of voices, the
occasional cry of a child, the rapid and abruptly interrupted roll of a
wooden drum, together with some distant hailing in the darkness by the
returning fishermen, reached her over the broad expanse of the river. She
hesitated a little before crossing, the sight of such an unusual object
as an European-rigged vessel causing her some uneasiness, but the river
in its wide expansion was dark enough to render a small canoe invisible.
She urged her small craft with swift strokes of her paddle, kneeling in
the bottom and bending forward to catch any suspicious sound while she
steered towards the little jetty of Lingard and Co., to which the strong
light of the paraffin lamp shining on the whitewashed verandah of
Almayer's bungalow served as a convenient guide. The jetty itself, under
the shadow of the bank overgrown by drooping bushes, was hidden in
darkness. Before even she could see it she heard the hollow bumping of a
large boat against its rotten posts, and heard also the murmur of
whispered conversation in that boat whose white paint and great
dimensions, faintly visible on nearer approach, made her rightly guess
that it belonged to the brig just anchored. Stopping her course by a
rapid motion of her paddle, with another swift stroke she sent it
whirling away from the wharf and steered for a little rivulet which gave
access to the back courtyard of the house.
Pages:
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76