She went straight towards the cooking-shed, observing that
the embers of the fire there glowed more brightly than usual, as if
somebody had been adding fresh fuel to the fires during the evening. As
she approached, Babalatchi, who had been squatting in the warm glow, rose
and met her in the shadow outside.
"Is she gone?" asked the anxious statesman, hastily.
"Yes," answered Mrs. Almayer. "What are the white men doing? When did
you leave them?"
"They are sleeping now, I think. May they never wake!" exclaimed
Babalatchi, fervently. "Oh! but they are devils, and made much talk and
trouble over that carcase. The chief threatened me twice with his hand,
and said he would have me tied up to a tree. Tie me up to a tree! Me!"
he repeated, striking his breast violently.
Mrs. Almayer laughed tauntingly.
"And you salaamed and asked for mercy. Men with arms by their side acted
otherwise when I was young."
"And where are they, the men of your youth? You mad woman!" retorted
Babalatchi, angrily. "Killed by the Dutch. Aha! But I shall live to
deceive them. A man knows when to fight and when to tell peaceful lies.
You would know that if you were not a woman."
But Mrs. Almayer did not seem to hear him.
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