They wanted peace; they were disposed to reform; they were ready even to retrench, so as to have the wherewithal to bribe the evil days away, if bribed away they could be.

Babalatchi sighed for the second time that night as he squatted again at his master's feet and tendered him his betel-nut box in mute sympathy.

And they sat there in close yet silent communion of betel-nut chewers, moving their jaws slowly, expectorating decorously into the wide- mouthed brass vessel they passed to one another, and listening to the awful din of the battling elements outside.
"There is a very great flood," remarked Babalatchi, sadly.
"Yes," said Lakamba.

"Did Dain go ?" "He went, Tuan.

He ran down to the river like a man possessed of the Sheitan himself." There was another long pause.
"He may get drowned," suggested Lakamba at last, with some show of interest.
"The floating logs are many," answered Babalatchi, "but he is a good swimmer," he added languidly.
"He ought to live," said Lakamba; "he knows where the treasure is." Babalatchi assented with an ill-humoured grunt.