and tell Mem Almayer to let him have room there. My wife, gentlemen, does not come out; my daughter may. Meantime have some more drink. It is a hot day."
The lieutenant took the cigar out of his mouth, looked at the ash critically, shook it off and turned towards Almayer.
"We have a rather unpleasant business with you," he said.
"I am sorry," returned Almayer. "It can be nothing very serious, surely."
"If you think an attempt to blow up forty men at least, not a serious matter you will not find many people of your opinion," retorted the officer sharply.
"Blow up! What? I know nothing about it," exclaimed Almayer. "Who did that, or tried to do it?"
"A man with whom you had some dealings," answered the lieutenant. "He passed here under the name of Dain Maroola. You sold him the gunpowder he had in that brig we captured."
"How did you hear about the brig?" asked Almayer. "I know nothing about the powder he may have had."
"An Arab trader of this place has sent the information about your goings on here to Batavia, a couple of months ago," said the officer. "We were waiting for the brig outside, but he slipped past us at the mouth of the river, and we had to chase the fellow to the southward. When he sighted us he ran inside the reefs and put the brig ashore. The crew escaped in boats before we could take possession. As our boats neared the craft it blew up with a tremendous explosion; one of the boats being too near got swamped. Two men drowned—that is the result of your speculation, Mr. Almayer. Now we want this Dain. We have good grounds to suppose he is hiding in Sambir. Do you know where he is? You had better put yourself right with the au-
