suddenly again.

"Allah! What ails the woman!" exclaimed Mahmat, angrily. "Here, I have
touched this carcass which came from nobody knows where, and have most
likely defiled myself before eating rice. By orders of Tuan Babalatchi I
did this thing to please the white man. Are you pleased, O Tuan Almayer?
And what will be my recompense? Tuan Babalatchi said a recompense there
will be, and from you. Now consider. I have been defiled, and if not
defiled I may be under the spell. Look at his anklets! Who ever heard
of a corpse appearing during the night amongst the logs with gold anklets
on its legs? There is witchcraft there. However," added Mahmat, after a
reflective pause, "I will have the anklet if there is permission, for I
have a charm against the ghosts and am not afraid. God is great!"

A fresh outburst of noisy grief from Mrs. Almayer checked the flow of
Mahmat's eloquence. Almayer, bewildered, looked in turn at his wife, at
Mahmat, at Babalatchi, and at last arrested his fascinated gaze on the
body lying on the mud with covered face in a grotesquely unnatural
contortion of mangled and broken limbs, one twisted and lacerated arm,
with white bones protruding in many places through the torn flesh,
stretched out; the hand with outspread fingers nearly touching his foot.

"Do you know who this is?" he asked of Babalatchi, in a low voice.

Babalatchi, staring straight before him, hardly moved his lips, while
Mrs. Almayer's persistent lamentations drowned the whisper of his
murmured reply intended only for Almayer's ear.

"It was fate. Look at your feet, white man. I can see a ring on those
torn fingers which I know well."