I

           ForalongtimeafterthecourseofthesteamerSofalahadbeenalteredfortheland,thelowswampycoasthadretaineditsappearanceofameresmudgeofdarknessbeyondabeltofglitter.Thesunraysseemedtofallviolentlyuponthecalmsea—seemedtoshatterthemselvesuponanadamantinesurfaceintosparklingdust,intoadazzlingvaporoflightthatblindedtheeyeandweariedthebrainwithitsunsteadybrightness.

           CaptainWhalleydidnotlookatit.WhenhisSerang,approachingtheroomycanearm-chairwhichhefilledcapably,hadinformedhiminalowvoicethatthecoursewastobealtered,hehadrisenatonceandhadremainedonhisfeet,faceforward,whiletheheadofhisshipswungthroughaquarterofacircle.Hehadnotutteredasingleword,noteventhewordtosteadythehelm.ItwastheSerang,anelderly,alert,littleMalay,withaverydarkskin,whomurmuredtheordertothehelmsman.AndthenslowlyCaptainWhalleysatdownagaininthearm-chaironthebridgeandfixedhiseyesonthedeckbetweenhisfeet.

           Hecouldnothopetoseeanythingnewuponthislaneofthesea.Hehadbeenonthesecoastsforthelastthreeyears.FromLowCapetoMalantanthedistancewasfiftymiles,sixhours’steamingfortheoldshipwiththetide,orsevenagainst.Thenyousteeredstraightfortheland,andby-and-bythreepalmswouldappearonthesky,tallandslim,andwiththeirdisheveledheadsinabunch,asifinconfidentialcriticismofthedarkmangroves.