“How are you going to save them this time, O Rajah Laut?” he asked, simply.
“Belarab is my friend,” murmured Lingard.
In his anxiety Jaffir was very outspoken. “A man of peace!” he exclaimed in a low tone. “Who could be safe with a man like that?” he asked, contemptuously.
“There is no war,” said Lingard
“There is suspicion, dread, and revenge, and the anger of armed men,” retorted Jaffir. “You have taken the white prisoners out of their hands by the force of your words alone. Is that so, Tuan?”
“Yes,” said Lingard.
“And you have them on board here?” asked Jaffir, with a glance over his shoulder at the white and misty structure within which by the light of a small oil flame d'Alcacer and Mrs. Travers were just then conversing.
“Yes, I have them here.”
“Then, Rajah Laut,” whispered Jaffir, “you can make all safe by giving them back.”
“Can I do that?” were the words breathed out through Lingard's lips to the faithful follower of Hassim and Immada.