From the very first moment when he set his eye on him he felt sure that this man--whom he had known by reputation only--was very resolute.

Perhaps too resolute.
Perhaps he would want to grasp too much later on.

A shadow flitted over Babalatchi's face.

On the eve of the accomplishment of his desires he felt the bitter taste of that drop of doubt which is mixed with the sweetness of every success.
When, hearing footsteps on the verandah of the big house, he lifted his head, the shadow had passed away and on his face there was an expression of watchful alertness.

Willems was coming down the plankway, into the courtyard.