If I go.

.

." "True! true!" interrupted Babalatchi, soothingly, "but I go often alone--for your good--and look--and listen.

When the time comes; when we both go together towards the Rajah's campong, it will be to enter--and to remain." Lakamba sat up and looked at Babalatchi gloomily.
"This is good talk, once, twice; when it is heard too often it becomes foolish, like the prattle of children." "Many, many times have I seen the cloudy sky and have heard the wind of the rainy seasons," said Babalatchi, impressively.
"And where is your wisdom?
It must be with the wind and the clouds of seasons past, for I do not hear it in your talk." "Those are the words of the ungrateful!" shouted Babalatchi, with sudden exasperation.

"Verily, our only refuge is with the One, the Mighty, the Redresser of.