Directly on stepping outside Omar's hut Abdulla caught sight of Willems. He expected, of course, to see a white man, but not that white man, whom he knew so well. Everybody who traded in the islands, and who had any dealings with Hudig, knew Willems. For the last two years of his stay in Macassar the confidential clerk had been managing all the local trade of the house under a very slight supervision only on the part of the master. So everybody knew Willems, Abdulla amongst others—but he was ignorant of Willems' disgrace. As a matter of fact the thing had been kept very quiet—so quiet that a good many people in Macassar were expecting Willems' return there, supposing him to be absent on some confidential mission. Abdulla, in his surprise, hesitated on the threshold. He had prepared himself to see some seaman—some old officer of Lingard's; a common man—perhaps difficult to deal with, but still no match for him. Instead, he saw himself confronted by an individual whose reputation for sagacity in business was well known to him. How did he get here, and why? Abdulla, recovering from his surprise, advanced in a dignified manner towards the fire, keeping his eyes fixed steadily on Willems. When within two paces from Willems he stopped and lifted his right hand in grave salutation. Willems nodded slightly and spoke after a while.
"We know each other, Tuan Abdulla," he said, with an assumption of easy
indifference.
"We have traded together," answered Abdulla, solemnly, "but it was far
from here."
"And we may trade here also," said Willems.
"The place does not matter. It is the open mind and the true heart that
are required in business."
"Very true. My heart is as open as my mind. I will tell you why I am
here."
"What need is there? In leaving home one learns life. You travel. Travelling is victory! You shall return with much wisdom."
"I shall never return," interrupted Willems. "I have done with my
people. I am a man without brothers. Injustice destroys fidelity."
Abdulla expressed his surprise by elevating his eyebrows. At the same
time he made a vague gesture with his arm that could be taken as an
equivalent of an approving and conciliating "just so!"
Till then the Arab had not taken any notice of Aissa, who stood by the
fire, but now she spoke in the interval of silence following Willems'
declaration. In a voice that was much deadened by her wrappings she
addressed Abdulla in a few words of greeting, calling him a kinsman. Abdulla glanced at her swiftly for a second, and then, with perfect good breeding, fixed his eyes on the ground. She put out towards him her hand, covered with a corner of her face-veil, and he took it, pressed it twice, and dropping it turned towards Willems. She looked at the two men searchingly, then backed away and seemed to melt suddenly into the night.
"I know what you came for, Tuan Abdulla," said Willems; "I have been
told by that man there." He nodded towards Babalatchi, then went on
slowly, "It will be a difficult thing."
"Allah makes everything easy," interjected Babalatchi, piously, from a
distance.
The two men turned quickly and stood looking at him thoughtfully, as
if in deep consideration of the truth of that proposition. Under their
sustained gaze Babalatchi experienced an unwonted feeling of shyness, and dared not approach nearer. At last Willems moved slightly, Abdulla followed readily, and they both walked down the courtyard, their voices dying away in the darkness. Soon they were heard returning, and the voices grew distinct as their forms came out of the gloom. By the fire they wheeled again, and Babalatchi caught a few words. Willems was saying—
"I have been at sea with him many years when young. I have used my
knowledge to observe the way into the river when coming in, this time."
Abdulla assented in general terms.
"In the variety of knowledge there is safety," he said; and then they
passed out of earshot.
