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Updated: June 13, 2025
The white man moved his shoulders uneasily and muttered in a hesitating manner "If such is her fate." "No, Tuan," said Arsat, calmly. "If such is my fate. I hear, I see, I wait. I remember . . . Tuan, do you remember the old days? Do you remember my brother?" "Yes," said the white man. The Malay rose suddenly and went in. The other, sitting still outside, could hear the voice in the hut.
A breath of warm air touched the two men's faces and passed on with a mournful sound a breath loud and short like an uneasy sigh of the dreaming earth. Arsat went on in an even, low voice. "We ran our canoe on the white beach of a little bay close to a long tongue of land that seemed to bar our road; a long wooded cape going far into the sea. My brother knew that place.
Then the boat shoved off, and the white man, standing up, confronted Arsat, who had come out through the low door of his hut. He was a man young, powerful, with broad chest and muscular arms. He had nothing on but his sarong. His head was bare. His big, soft eyes stared eagerly at the white man, but his voice and demeanour were composed as he asked, without any words of greeting
You, Tuan, know what war is, and you have seen me in time of danger seek death as other men seek life! A writing may be lost; a lie may be written; but what the eye has seen is truth and remains in the mind!" "I remember," said the white man, quietly. Arsat went on with mournful composure "Therefore I shall speak to you of love. Speak in the night.
Arsat said: "Hear me! Speak!" His words were succeeded by a complete silence. "O Diamelen!" he cried, suddenly. After that cry there was a deep sigh. Arsat came out and sank down again in his old place. They sat in silence before the fire.
The big canoe glided on swiftly, noiselessly, and smoothly, towards Arsat's clearing, till, in a great rattling of poles thrown down, and the loud murmurs of "Allah be praised!" it came with a gentle knock against the crooked piles below the house. The boatmen with uplifted faces shouted discordantly, "Arsat! O Arsat!" Nobody came.
Near it, two tall nibong palms, that seemed to have come out of the forests in the background, leaned slightly over the ragged roof, with a suggestion of sad tenderness and care in the droop of their leafy and soaring heads. The steersman, pointing with his paddle, said, "Arsat is there. I see his canoe fast between the piles."
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