Close to the other side wall stood a bent- wood rocking-chair, and by the table and about the verandah four wooden armchairs straggled forlornly, as if ashamed of their shabby surroundings.

A heap of common mats lay in one corner, with an old hammock slung diagonally above.

In the other corner, his head wrapped in a piece of red calico, huddled into a shapeless heap, slept a Malay, one of Almayer's domestic slaves--"my own people," he used to call them.

A numerous and representative assembly of moths were holding high revels round the lamp to the spirited music of swarming mosquitoes.

Under the palm-leaf thatch lizards raced on the beams calling softly.