"Send
Wasub to me. I am going down into the cabin."
He crossed over to the companion, then checking himself suddenly: "Was
there a boat from the yacht during the day?" he asked as if struck by
a sudden thought.--"No, sir," answered Carter. "We had no communication
with the yacht to-day."--"Send Wasub to me," repeated Lingard in a stern
voice as he went down the stairs.
The old serang coming in noiselessly saw his Captain as he had seen him
many times before, sitting under the gilt thunderbolts, apparently as
strong in his body, in his wealth, and in his knowledge of secret words
that have a power over men and elements, as ever. The old Malay squatted
down within a couple of feet from Lingard, leaned his back against
the satinwood panel of the bulkhead, then raising his old eyes with a
watchful and benevolent expression to the white man's face, clasped his
hands between his knees.
"Wasub, you have learned now everything. Is there no one left alive but
Jaffir? Are they all dead?"
"May you live!" answered Wasub; and Lingard whispered an appalled "All
dead!" to which Wasub nodded slightly twice. His cracked voice had a
lamenting intonation. "It is all true! It is all true! You are left
alone, Tuan; you are left alone!"
"It was their destiny," said Lingard at last, with forced calmness.
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