"Will you depart without that woman who is my daughter?" said Almayer, addressing Dain, while Babalatchi stamped with impatience, muttering, "Run! Run at once!"
"No," answered Dain, steadily, "I will not go; to no man will I abandon this woman."
"Then kill me and escape yourself," sobbed out Nina.
He clasped her close, looking at her tenderly, and whispered, "We will never part, O Nina!"
"I shall not stay here any longer," broke in Babalatchi, angrily. "This is great foolishness. No woman is worth a man's life. I am an old man, and I know."
He picked up his staff, and, turning to go, looked at Dain as if offering him his last chance of escape. But Dain's face was hidden amongst Nina's black tresses, and he did not see this last appealing glance.
Babalatchi vanished in the darkness. Shortly after his disappearance they heard the war canoe leave the landing-place in the swish of the numerous paddles dipped in the water together. Almost at the same time Ali came up from the riverside, two paddles on his shoulder.
"Our canoe is hidden up the creek, Tuan Almayer," he said, "in the dense bush where the forest comes down to the water. I took it there because I heard from Babalatchi's paddlers that the white men are coming here."
"Wait for me there," said Almayer, "but keep the canoe hidden."
He remained silent, listening to Ali's footsteps, then turned to Nina.
"Nina," he said sadly, "will you have no pity for me?"
There was no answer. She did not even turn her head, which was pressed close to Dain's breast.
