It was only for an
instant, because Daman turned away at once to shake hands with Lingard.
In the straight, ample folds of his robes he looked very slender facing
the robust white man.
"Great is your power," he said, in a pleasant voice. "The white men are
going to be delivered to you."
"Yes, they pass into my keeping," said Lingard, returning the other's
bright smile but otherwise looking grim enough with the frown which
had settled on his forehead at Daman's approach. He glanced over his
shoulder at a group of spearmen escorting the two captives who had come
down the steps from the hut. At the sight of Daman barring as it were
Lingard's way they had stopped at some distance and had closed round the
two white men. Daman also glanced dispassionately that way.
"They were my guests," he murmured. "Please God I shall come soon to ask
you for them . . . as a friend," he added after a slight pause.
"And please God you will not go away empty handed," said Lingard,
smoothing his brow. "After all you and I were not meant to meet only
to quarrel. Would you have preferred to see them pass into Tengga's
keeping?"
"Tengga is fat and full of wiles," said Daman, disdainfully, "a mere
shopkeeper smitten by a desire to be a chief. He is nothing. But you and
I are men that have real power.
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