“Wife and child. Small boy, you know. They are on board the schooner.”
Almayer looked at Lingard with sudden suspicion, then turning away busied himself in picking up the chair, sat down in it turning his back upon the old seaman, and tried to whistle, but gave it up directly. Lingard went on—
“Fact is, the fellow got into trouble with Hudig. Worked upon my feelings. I promised to arrange matters. I did. With much trouble. Hudig was angry with her for wishing to join her husband. Unprincipled old fellow. You know she is his daughter. Well, I said I would see her through it all right; help Willems to a fresh start and so on. I spoke to Craig in Palembang. He is getting on in years, and wanted a manager or partner. I promised to guarantee Willems’ good behaviour. We settled all that. Craig is an old crony of mine. Been shipmates in the forties. He’s waiting for him now. A pretty mess! What do you think?”
Almayer shrugged his shoulders.
“That woman broke with Hudig on my assurance that all would be well,” went on Lingard, with growing dismay. “She did. Proper thing, of course. Wife, husband . . . together . . . as it should be . . . Smart fellow . . . Impossible scoundrel . . . Jolly old go! Oh! damn!”
Almayer laughed spitefully.
“How delighted he will be,” he said, softly. “You will make two people happy. Two at least!” He laughed again, while Lingard looked at his shaking shoulders in consternation.
“I am jammed on a lee shore this time, if ever I was,” muttered Lingard.
“Send her back quick,” suggested Almayer, stifling another laugh.
“What are you sniggering at?” growled Lingard, angrily. “I’ll work it out all clear yet. Meantime you must receive her into this house.”