An European lamp with a green shade standing on the table made all this indistinctly visible to Dain.
"You are welcome to your rest here," said Babalatchi, looking at Dain interrogatively.
"I must speak to the Rajah at once," answered Dain.
Babalatchi made a gesture of assent, and, turning to the brass gong suspended under the arm-rack, struck two sharp blows.
The ear-splitting din woke up the guard.

The snores ceased; outstretched legs were drawn in; the whole heap moved, and slowly resolved itself into individual forms, with much yawning and rubbing of sleepy eyes; behind the curtains there was a burst of feminine chatter; then the bass voice of Lakamba was heard.
"Is that the Arab trader ?" "No, Tuan," answered Babalatchi; "Dain has returned at last.

He is here for an important talk, bitcharra--if you mercifully consent." Evidently Lakamba's mercy went so far--for in a short while he came out from behind the curtain--but it did not go to the length of inducing him to make an extensive toilet.

A short red sarong tightened hastily round his hips was his only garment.

The merciful ruler of Sambir looked sleepy and rather sulky.