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Another voice the serang's probably shouted: "Ikat!" and as Lingard dropped the blind and turned away all was silent again, as if there had been nothing on the other side of the swaying screen; nothing but the light, brilliant, crude, heavy, lying on a dead land like a pall of fire. Lingard sat down again, facing Almayer, his elbow on the table, in a thoughtful attitude.
He had made out enough of this story from the old serang's pidgin English to know that the Captain's native friends, one of them a woman, had perished in a mysterious catastrophe. But the why of it, and how it came about, remained still quite incomprehensible to him. Of course, a man like the Captain would feel terribly cut up. . . .
Ganpat was secured before the last man became aware of what was happening. Hari hesitated at the threshold, hearing the sound of a slight scuffle caused by the seizure of his companion. "Tell him to come in," whispered Desmond in the serang's ear, emphasizing the order by laying the cold blade of a knife against his collarbone.
Finlinson Sahib had that day given orders to clear the scaffolding from the guard-tower on the right bank, and Peroo with his mates was casting loose and lowering down the bamboo poles and planks as swiftly as ever they had whipped the cargo out of a coaster. From his trolley he could hear the whistle of the serang's silver pipe and the creak and clatter of the pulleys.
The old serang's face expressed a profound dejection and there was infinite sadness in the flowing murmur of his words. "Yes, by Allah! They were all there: that tyrannical Tengga, noisy like a fool; the Rajah Hassim, a ruler without a country; Daman, the wandering chief, and the three Pangerans of the sea-robbers.
"I must," thought Sterne, "bring that brute Massy to his bearings. It's getting too absurd in the end. Here's the old man up there buried in his chair he may just as well be in his grave for all the use he'll ever be in the world and the Serang's in charge. Because that's what he is. In charge. In the place that's mine by rights. I must bring that savage brute to his bearings.
Of course, the customs house officers have to be reckoned with from the moment a ship enters till she leaves the port, but sometimes in this drowsy climate a man falls asleep in his long chair, and here is the serang's chance the serang being the head and leader of the crew. The contraband is quickly lowered in gunny bags to the sampans and carried off in triumph to its destination.
Hubbo was silent for a moment, then he said: "Have I the huzur's leave to speak?" "There is a mistri on board the serang's boat who is used to working in ships a khalasi from Gujarat. He might do something on board your Excellency's ship. If this vessel sank, according to the plan, the Firangi would not be able to get aboard the others, and they would have time to sink slowly."
As soon as he arrived they got under way, and late that evening reached Tanna Fort, where they had to deliver their cargo of rice for the use of the Nawab's garrison. In the dead of night they were surprised by a visit from Hubbo, the serang's brother. He had seen them as they passed from one of the sloops that lay in the river opposite the fort.
Now and then he would hear the shuffle of the Serang's bare feet up there: quiet, low voices would exchange a few words, and lapse almost at once into silence. . . . "Tell me directly you see any land, Serang." "Yes, Tuan. Not yet." "No, not yet," Captain Whalley would agree. The ship had been the best friend of his decline.
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