"O! Brother, my heart is faint with fear," whispered Immada. Lingard
turned swiftly to that whisper.
"Then, they are to be saved," exclaimed Mrs. Travers. "Ah, I knew. . . ."
"Bear thy fear in patience," said Hassim, rapidly, to his sister.
"They are to be saved. You have said it," Lingard pronounced aloud,
suddenly. He felt like a swimmer who, in the midst of superhuman efforts
to reach the shore, perceives that the undertow is taking him to sea. He
would go with the mysterious current; he would go swiftly--and see the
end, the fulfilment both blissful and terrible.
With this state of exaltation in which he saw himself in some
incomprehensible way always victorious, whatever might befall, there was
mingled a tenacity of purpose. He could not sacrifice his intention,
the intention of years, the intention of his life; he could no more
part with it and exist than he could cut out his heart and live. The
adventurer held fast to his adventure which made him in his own sight
exactly what he was.
He considered the problem with cool audacity, backed by a belief in
his own power. It was not these two men he had to save; he had to save
himself! And looked upon in this way the situation appeared familiar.
Hassim had told him the two white men had been taken by their captors
to Daman's camp.
Pages:
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262