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headman. It meant nothing whatever to either partner i n it.
    Still, she thought hollowly, as she dropped her toilet articles ’ into the floral bag, relations were going to be rather strained for the first fifty miles—until he destroyed the evidence of the expedient they had to use in order to escape from Vinan.

 
    CHAPTER TWO
    THE ceremony was brief and not real enough to be harrowing. Terry stood beside Pete in that dim little office with lizards running up and down the walls and flies buzzing about the reed blind. Kim Mali sat behind his desk, and two Malay policemen were witnesses. The old man read a few questions from a faded card.
    “ You are Peter Maxwell Sternham? ”
    “ Yes. ”
    “ You are Teresa Claire Fremont? ”
    “ Yes. ”
    “ You have a ring, Mr. Sternham? ”
    Trust Pete with the details. He produced a heavy little band which looked like a circular plait made from gold snakes.
    Kim Mali said, “ Peter Maxwell Sternham, are you willing to take this woman to be your wife? ”
    Non-committally, Pete said, “ I am. ”
    “ Teresa Claire Fremont, are you willing to take this man to be your husband? ”
    “ I am, ” she whispered, with her fingers crossed.
    “ You will kindly place the ring on the appropriate finger, Mr. Sternham. ”
    Pete did so, very easily, because the ring was too large. The imperturbable Kim Mali nodded his head, referred once more to his card and said, “ I pronounce you man and wife. ”
    It was like acting, rather badly, a scene from comic opera, except that it wasn ’ t amusing; at least, Terry didn ’ t find it so. She watched the old man sign a stained parchment certificate which had already been filled in with her own and Pete ’ s names, slam a heavy seal below his signature and push the paper across the desk for her to sign. She did it shakily, saw Pete add what was presumably his usual firm signature, and the two witnesses fill in the lines below. The certificate was rolled and handed to Pete, with Terry ’ s passport. Five minutes later he surrendered his permit for one which entitled Mr. and Mrs. P. Sternham to proceed through Vinan territory to their destination, Penghu.
    Kim Mali stood up, bowed graciously and offered his hand across the desk. “ I wish you much happiness and many children, ” he said. “ Believe me, Mr. Sternham, marriage is a good thing, as much for a white man in Malaya as for us who were born here. ” He then shook hands with Terry. “ I wish you well, mem. May I suggest just one thing? When you arrive at Penghu, find a minister of your church to solemnize the marriage in English fashion. This marriage is a means to an end, but I have strong belief in the religious ceremony. I wish you both a safe journey. Goodbye. ”
    The final ten minutes of her stay at Vinan were dreamlike to Terry. She sat on the jetty while the canoe was loaded with food, blankets, a ground-sheet and their luggage. The higher reaches of the river were navigable only in a small craft, so it was impossible to take a boat-boy; there was no room for one. When Pete was satisfied with the loading, he gave a hand to Terry and saw her seated. He pushed away with a paddle, they came into blazing sunshine and then slid forward into the narrower tunnel of river beyond the village. Terry waved to the two policemen, saw the village disappear and turned back, to face Pete across the short length of the canoe.
    Apparently oblivious of her, he pulled off his shirt, settled firmly into his seat and began to wield a pair of paddles with long and seemingly effortless strokes. His muscles rippled under bronze skin, and suddenly she thought of him on holiday in Burma and Siam—just like this, but alone and enjoying himself. He knew there were hazards ahead, but he didn ’ t care; she wouldn ’ t mind betting he had never been scared in his life. She began to wonder what sort of home he had come from, whether he had parents still living, what had first attracted him out to