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Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924

"Almayer's Folly: a story of an Eastern river"

He remarked that the man was dead now at all
events, and consequently no more dangerous. Where was the use to wonder
at the decrees of Fate, especially if they were propitious to the True
Believers? And with a pious ejaculation to Allah the Merciful, the
Compassionate, Abdulla seemed to regard the incident as closed for the
present.
Not so Reshid. He lingered by his uncle, pulling thoughtfully his neatly
trimmed beard.
"There are many lies," he murmured. "He has been dead once before, and
came to life to die again now. The Dutch will be here before many days
and clamour for the man. Shall I not believe my eyes sooner than the
tongues of women and idle men?"
"They say that the body is being taken to Almayer's compound," said
Abdulla. "If you want to go there you must go before the Dutch arrive
here. Go late. It should not be said that we have been seen inside that
man's enclosure lately."
Reshid assented to the truth of this last remark and left his uncle's
side. He leaned against the lintel of the big doorway and looked idly
across the courtyard through the open gate on to the main road of the
settlement. It lay empty, straight, and yellow under the flood of light.
In the hot noontide the smooth trunks of palm trees, the outlines of the
houses, and away there at the other end of the road the roof of Almayer's
house visible over the bushes on the dark background of forest, seemed to
quiver in the heat radiating from the steaming earth.


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