His lips moved in an inaudible whisper and the beads passed through his fingers with a dry click. All waited in respectful silence. "I shall come if my ship can enter this river," said Abdulla at last, in a solemn tone. "It can, Tuan," exclaimed Babalatchi. "There is a white man here who . . ." "I want to see Omar el Badavi and that white man you wrote about," interrupted Abdulla.
"Hai! there will be no fighting," broke in Babalatchi. "The fear of your name will be enough and the terror of your coming." "There may be powder too," muttered Abdulla with great nonchalance, "if only the ship enters the river safely." "If the heart is stout the ship will be safe," said Babalatchi. "We will go now and see Omar el Badavi and the white man I have here."
"Since the Rajah Laut left another white man here in Sambir, the daughter of the blind Omar el Badavi has spoken to other ears than mine." "Would a white man listen to a beggar's daughter?" said Lakamba, doubtingly. "Hai! I have seen . . ." "And what did you see? O one-eyed one!" exclaimed Lakamba, contemptuously.
He found favour in the eyes of his chief, the fearless Omar el Badavi, the leader of Brunei rovers, whom he followed with unquestioning loyalty through the long years of successful depredation.