And so Lingard came and went on his secret or open expeditions, becoming a hero in Almayer's eyes by the boldness and enormous profits of his ventures, seeming to Almayer a very great man indeed as he saw him marching up the warehouse, grunting a "how are you ?" to Vinck, or greeting Hudig, the Master, with a boisterous "Hallo, old pirate! Alive yet ?" as a preliminary to transacting business behind the little green door.

Often of an evening, in the silence of the then deserted warehouse, Almayer putting away his papers before driving home with Mr.Vinck, in whose household he lived, would pause listening to the noise of a hot discussion in the private office, would hear the deep and monotonous growl of the Master, and the roared-out interruptions of Lingard--two mastiffs fighting over a marrowy bone.

But to Almayer's ears it sounded like a quarrel of Titans--a battle of the gods.
After a year or so Lingard, having been brought often in contact with Almayer in the course of business, took a sudden and, to the onlookers, a rather inexplicable fancy to the young man.

He sang his praises, late at night, over a convivial glass to his cronies in the Sunda Hotel, and one fine morning electrified Vinck by declaring that he must have "that young fellow for a supercargo.

Kind of captain's clerk.