Surprise made Jaffir exclaim, but he wasn't prepared to deny that. It
was possible that for many reasons, some quite simple and others very
subtle, those sons of the Evil One belonging to Tengga and Daman would
refrain from killing a white woman walking alone from the water's
edge to Belarab's gate. Yes, it was just possible that she might walk
unharmed.
"Especially if she carried a blazing torch," muttered Jorgenson in his
moustache. He told Jaffir that she was sitting now in the dark, mourning
silently in the manner of white women. She had made a great outcry in
the morning to be allowed to join the white men on shore. He, Jorgenson,
had refused her the canoe. Ever since she had secluded herself in the
deckhouse in great distress.
Jaffir listened to it all without particular sympathy. And when
Jorgenson added, "It is in my mind, O Jaffir, to let her have her will
now," he answered by a "Yes, by Allah! let her go. What does it matter?"
of the greatest unconcern, till Jorgenson added:
"Yes. And she may carry the ring to the Rajah Laut."
Jorgenson saw Jaffir, the grim and impassive Jaffir, give a perceptible
start. It seemed at first an impossible task to persuade Jaffir to part
with the ring. The notion was too monstrous to enter his mind, to move
his heart. But at last he surrendered in an awed whisper, "God is great.
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