In her deep and aimless thinking she had only become aware
of the absence of the slightest sound on board the Emma. Not a rustle,
not a footfall. The public view of Jorgenson and Jaffir in deep
consultation had the effect of taking all wish to move from every man.
Twilight enveloped the two figures forward while they talked, looking in
the stillness of their pose like carved figures of European and Asiatic
contrasted in intimate contact. The deepening dusk had nearly effaced
them when at last they rose without warning, as it were, and thrilling
the heart of the beholders by the sudden movement. But they did not
separate at once. They lingered in their high place as if awaiting the
fall of complete darkness, a fit ending to their mysterious communion.
Jaffir had given Jorgenson the whole story of the ring, the symbol of a
friendship matured and confirmed on the night of defeat, on the night of
flight from a far-distant land sleeping unmoved under the wrath and fire
of heaven.
"Yes, Tuan," continued Jaffir, "it was first sent out to the white man,
on a night of mortal danger, a present to remember a friend by. I was
the bearer of it then even as I am now. Then, as now, it was given to me
and I was told to save myself and hand the ring over in confirmation of
my message.
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