a little sore at that abandonment because he had attached himself, in
a way, to his protege. Still he was proud of him, and spoke up for him
loyally. At first it was, "Smart boy that--never make a seaman though."
Then when Willems was helping in the trading he referred to him as "that
clever young fellow." Later when Willems became the confidential agent
of Hudig, employed in many a delicate affair, the simple-hearted old
seaman would point an admiring finger at his back and whisper to whoever
stood near at the moment, "Long-headed chap that; deuced long-headed
chap. Look at him. Confidential man of old Hudig. I picked him up in a
ditch, you may say, like a starved cat. Skin and bone. 'Pon my word I
did. And now he knows more than I do about island trading. Fact. I am
not joking. More than I do," he would repeat, seriously, with innocent
pride in his honest eyes.

From the safe elevation of his commercial successes Willems patronized
Lingard. He had a liking for his benefactor, not unmixed with some
disdain for the crude directness of the old fellow's methods of conduct.
There were, however, certain sides of Lingard's character for which
Willems felt a qualified respect. The talkative seaman knew how to
be silent on certain matters that to Willems were very interesting.
Besides, Lingard was rich, and that in itself was enough to compel
Willems' unwilling admiration. In his confidential chats with Hudig,
Willems generally alluded to the benevolent Englishman as the "lucky
old fool" in a very distinct tone of vexation; Hudig would grunt an
unqualified assent, and then the two would look at each other in a
sudden immobility of pupils fixed by a stare of unexpressed thought.

"You can't find out where he gets all that india-rubber, hey Willems?"
Hudig would ask at last, turning away and bending over the papers on his
desk.