a hole in the roof.  His brain was in a whirl; but, nevertheless, it was on that very night that he matured his plan for overcoming Sherif Ali.  It had been the thought of all the moments he could spare from the hopeless investigation into Stein’s affairs, but the notion—­he says—­came to him then all at once.  He could see, as it were, the guns mounted on the top of the hill.  He got very hot and excited lying there; sleep was out of the question more than ever.  He jumped up, and went out barefooted on the verandah.  Walking silently, he came upon the girl, motionless against the wall, as if on the watch.  In his then state of mind it did not surprise him to see her up, nor yet to hear her ask in an anxious whisper where Cornelius could be.  He simply said he did not know.  She moaned a little, and peered into the campong.  Everything was very quiet.  He was possessed by his new idea, and so full of it that he could not help telling the girl all about it at once.  She listened, clapped her hands lightly, whispered softly her admiration, but was evidently on the alert all the time.  It seems he had been used to make a confidant of her all along—­and that she on her part could and did give him a lot of useful hints as to Patusan affairs there is no doubt.  He assured me more than once that he had never found himself the worse for her advice.  At any rate, he was proceeding to explain his plan fully to her there and then, when she pressed his arm once, and vanished from his side.  Then Cornelius appeared from somewhere, and, perceiving Jim, ducked sideways, as though he had been shot at, and afterwards stood very still in the dusk.  At last he came forward prudently, like a suspicious cat.  “There were some fishermen there—­with fish,” he said in a shaky voice.  “To sell fish—­you understand.” . . .  It must have been then two o’clock in the morning—­a likely time for anybody to hawk fish about!

’Jim, however, let the statement pass, and did not give it a single thought.  Other matters occupied his mind, and besides he had neither seen nor heard anything.  He contented himself by saying, “Oh!” absently, got a drink of water out of a pitcher standing there, and leaving Cornelius a prey to some inexplicable emotion—­that made him embrace with both arms the worm-eaten rail of the verandah as if his legs had failed—­went in again and lay down on his mat to think.  By-and-by he heard stealthy footsteps.  They stopped.  A voice whispered tremulously through the wall, “Are you asleep?” “No!  What is it?” he answered briskly, and there was an abrupt movement outside, and then all was still, as if the whisperer had been startled.  Extremely annoyed at this, Jim came out impetuously, and Cornelius with a faint shriek fled along the verandah as far as the steps, where he hung on to the broken banister.  Very puzzled, Jim called out to him from the distance to know what the devil he meant.  “Have you given your consideration to what I spoke to you about?” asked Cornelius, pronouncing