XVI. THE OPIUM-MONOPOLY. A QUIET CHAT…

XVI. THE OPIUM-MONOPOLY. A QUIET CHAT

The people of Kaligaweh were quiet folk, and did as they were told. Very soon the dessa had resumed its ordinary peaceful appearance, and the little group of European gentlemen were once again seated under the widely-spreading crown of the gigantic wild-fig tree. But if, a short time ago, they had paid but very little attention to the wondrous beauties of the tropical night, their visit to the opium-den made them still more indifferent to its attractions. As soon as they were again seated, the conversation, naturally enough, turned upon the terrible scenes which they had witnessed.

"In that passage," said Grashuis, who, as surveyor, was accustomed to take in local details at a glance, "there were twenty-four doors and therefore there must be twenty-four such hideous pens. If all of them--What a pity it is that we allowed ourselves to be scared and that we did not carry out our investigation to the end."

"No, no, my friend," said Verstork, "I am glad we did not. Almost all the recesses were occupied, and the scenes which they would have revealed would have differed only from those you saw in the degree of beastliness. I repeat it--it is much better that we did not go on. But, when I tell you that in the dessa Kaligaweh there are some eighty households which number about six hundred souls, one hundred and thirty of which are able-bodied working men, and that such a den as we visited remains open for three-quarters of the four-and-twenty hours--And when I further tell you that if you had looked into the wretched huts all around you would have found many an opium-smoker in them also--then, I think you will be able to form some idea of the extent which the abuse of opium has attained."

"Do you happen to know," asked Grashuis, who was fond of statistics, "what percentage of the inhabitants is given to this abuse of opium?"

"Well," returned the other, "I do not think we shall do much good by troubling ourselves about figures which are generally misleading and only serve to prove how clever statisticians are in the art de grouper les chiffres."

"Yes," said Grenits, "and we know full well that treasury officials have very little scruples on such points."

"It is a blessing that Muizenkop does not hear you say that," said van Rheijn, with a laugh, "you would see him fire up at such a suggestion."

"With regard to Kaligaweh," continued Verstork, "I venture most confidently to assert that there are not ten men in the dessa who are free from the vice of opium smoking."

"Humph," muttered van Beneden, who, though a lawyer, was also fond of figures, "that is about 93 per cent."

"I found that out," continued the controller, "when, about a twelvemonth ago I was on the look-out for a man to put into the place of my former loerah; a good fellow enough, but one whom the opium-pipe had rendered totally unfit for any position of trust."

"Did you succeed?" asked Grenits.

"Yes, I did; but not without much difficulty. It was my intention to appoint Setrosmito, the poor devil who just now has got himself into trouble, and it was only because the man could neither read nor write that I had to give up the idea. The inquiries, however, which I then was forced to make, revealed to me the startling fact that women, and even children of eight or nine years of age use opium. They actually scrape out the father's pipe in order to get hold of the fatal narcotic."

"But," remarked van Beneden, "Kaligaweh probably forms an exception."

"Not by any means," rejoined Verstork, testily; "during my official career I have been stationed in several residencies, and I venture to affirm that, as far as opium is concerned, their condition is much the same as that in Santjoemeh. You will find hundreds of dessas in the island like Kaligaweh."

"I suppose," put in Grenits, "we must except the Preanger districts?"

"Oh yes, certainly," assented Verstork, "the use of opium is altogether forbidden there."

"And does that work well?"

"Excellently," said Verstork.

"That is, I have no doubt," asked Grashuis, "a tentative measure on the part of the Government which, if it succeeds, will be extended to the whole of Java?"

"Not at all," replied Verstork. "In the first place the prohibition has been in force too long to be merely tentative for it dates back as far as 1824; and then, in the next, it was not at all adopted with the view of checking the abuse of opium; but merely because it was feared that the people would take to coffee-stealing in order to be able to satisfy their craving."

"Come," said van Rheijn, "that is not at all a bad idea."

"Is it possible," exclaimed Grashuis, "to conceive a more cynical confession of the fact that opium demoralises the people?"

"And if," continued Grenits, "you add that confession to the scenes which we have just witnessed, then put the question seriously to yourselves: is there any truth in the assertion made by van Rheijn and backed up by van Beneden, that the abuse of opium can in any way be compared to the abuse of alcohol, or put on the same level with it? No, no, in my opinion, it is infinitely more deplorable!"

"Such is my opinion also," assented Verstork; "every attempt made to put down or to limit the extent of opium-smoking and to check its abuse, must be looked upon as an act of much greater philanthropy than the efforts made by the friends of temperance or the preachers of total abstinence. But--"

"Yes--but what?" cried another.

"But," continued he, "every such attempt is a direct blow aimed at the revenue at home."

"Aye, aye, there you have it," said Grenits; "and whenever you raise such a question as that, our good friends at the Hague are uncommonly hard of hearing."

"Well, I don't blame them," interrupted van Rheijn, "they cannot afford to sacrifice the millions which the opium trade pours into the treasury."

"God help us!" cried Grenits, "did ever man hear such an argument as that? What would you say to a thief who would try to excuse his theft by saying that he was in need of the stolen money to go and fuddle himself in a beershop; or to a murderer who would try and justify his crime by stating that he poisoned his uncle only because he wanted the inheritance to--to--well, say to keep his mistress?"

"Oh, oh, oh!" cried several voices, "what a comparison!"

"Yes," said Verstork, "the comparison is certainly not flattering; but it has the advantage of being a perfectly just one. So long as our country indulges in the costly luxury of an administration such as ours; and so long as it maintains the opium trade in its present state to furnish funds for that costly administration: such proceeding may very justly be compared to the action of a thief who steals a banknote in order to go and spend it in a gin-palace."

"Or rather," cried Grenits, "to that of a man who poisons his uncle so that he may have the handling of his money. I consider the latter comparison to be a still more just one; because it cannot be denied that though Holland has always treated her Indian possessions as a milch-cow, the present system of scraping and squeezing is beginning to exceed all reasonable bounds and limits."

"Oh! oh!" again cried van Rheijn and van Beneden as in protest.

"Well gentlemen," asked Grenits, "am I exaggerating? Tell me now, are they not, at home, exceeding all limits and bounds in the heavy taxation which they heap on the shoulders of the industrial and commercial classes?"

"Aye, but," remarked van Beneden, "you must remember that in Holland people have to pay taxes as well as out here."

"If you will take the trouble to look into the matter," said Grenits, "you will find that they do not pay anything like what the people have to pay here. Then again, I ask, do they not exceed all bounds and limits in increasing the burdens, already too heavy, which the poor native population has to bear?"

"I quite agree with you there," said Verstork.

"Do they not," continued Grenits, "exceed all limits in the pitiful and niggardly way in which they treat their soldiers out here?"

"How so?" asked van Rheijn.

"Why, to give you but one instance, by loudly declaring that there is peace at Atjeh--a peace which has no real existence whatever--and thereby robbing the poor soldiers and doing them clean out of their already too meagre pay?"

"Oh, what need we bother ourselves about those soldier fellows!" cried van Rheijn.

"Do they not again," continued Grenits, "overpass all reasonable limits, by encouraging and fostering the abuse of opium?"

"Now, that is too bad," cried van Beneden, "now you are going too far; that accusation of yours is not a fair one."

"You think so, do you?" said Grenits. "Well then just take Band's book in hand. There you will find proof absolute of the fact that it is, and has always been, the policy at the Hague to encourage and to foster the opium-trade as much as possible. Figures are stubborn things--just listen to what they have to say. In 1832, the opium revenue amounted to three millions, in 1842 it rose to very nearly seven millions. In 1870 it was quite ten millions, in 1880 it amounted to thirteen millions. In 1885 that same revenue rose to nineteen millions; and new, in 1886, it is estimated at quite twenty one millions, and our House of Representatives has accepted that estimate without the slightest demur, and without one word of protest. Of course, every now and then, there is a great moan made in political and in other circles at home, and a great deal is said about the iniquities of the opium trade; but, for all that, the authorities have their hands perfectly free and are encouraged by all parties to squeeze out of that trade as much as it can be made to yield."

"But, excuse me," asked van Rheijn, "is it not one of the first duties of every government to make an impost as productive as possible?"

"Certainly it is,--and it is precisely therein that lies the immorality and the demoralizing tendency of the opium-monopoly. You see, in order to enable the farmers to increase their bids, the abuse of the drug must be encouraged. Thus the poor natives are driven, we may say, into the opium-den by any and by every means--the most illegal and the dirtiest means seem to have the preference. Just read our local papers, and then you will be edified, I think, at the infamous annoyance which the Chinese opium-factors are empowered to inflict upon the non-consumers, and at the unlimited control they are allowed to exercise, always in the most shameless and arbitrary fashion, over any poor wretch who, seeing, it may be, the error of his ways, tries to diminish his daily consumption."

"Or provide himself with smuggled opium," remarked van Rheijn, interrupting him.

Grenits, however, paid no heed to the remark, and went on: "The opium-monopoly was originally established with the very laudable object of raising the price of the article and of thus leaving it within the reach of as few people as possible. On that principle, therefore, every regulation must be condemned which tends to augment the revenue by increasing, the sale. But, at present, our Colonial Secretary relies upon the system as a regular means of increasing the revenue. When we have such facts as these before us, facts which can be proved to demonstration, then we feel ourselves driven to pronounce this judgment: 'Our government and our representatives are fully convinced of the terrible and fatal effects of the abuse of opium by their Indian subjects; but they will not consent to forego the profit which they obtain by the wholesale poisoning of an entire population.'"

"Come, come, poisoning! That is a rather strong word!" cried van Beneden.

"Yes," continued Grenits, very quietly, "I said poisoning--that was my word. If in Holland an apothecary does not keep his opium in the proper poison chest, or if he is detected in selling it without the proper order from a medical man, he is fined--very heavily fined. Am I not right, van Nerekool?"

Thus addressed van Nerekool raised his head, looked up vacantly for a moment or two and gave an affirmative nod; it seemed very doubtful whether he had understood the question at all. Grenits, however, accepted that nod as a gesture of assent, and continued:

"Yet that same poison may here be procured without the slightest difficulty, nay more than that, is actually forced upon the poor people in the most shameless manner by the Chinese scoundrels who keep the opium dens. And that goes on under the eyes, and with the full cognizance, sanction, and under the protection of the Dutch Government."

"You are growing tiresome," sneered van Rheijn, "you keep on harping on that one string--the Dutch Government--The fact is, my dear fellow, you are tarred with the self-same brush of discontent as all the manufacturers and merchants out here in India."

"Why should I not be?" cried Grenits passionately. "I do not always agree with all their opinions; but yet I do form a part of that important commercial body; and when a question arises which effects the vital interests of industry and commerce--Well, yes, then you may say that I am tarred with the same brush."

"But have these grumblers really so very much to complain of?" asked Grashuis in a bantering tone of voice.

"I should think they have," replied Grenits. "Under our present system we are not only flayed; but we are sucked dry, in a manner which, elsewhere, would drive men to open rebellion. When the Dutch revolted against Spain, and when the Belgians rose up in arms against the Dutch, neither of them had anything like so much to complain of as we have here,--neither of them suffered anything like the extortion which the Indo-Europeans have to put up with at the hands of their present oppressors."

"Oh, oh, oh!" cried several voices.

"We have now to pay duties and taxes compared to which the tithes at which our ancestors rebelled were the merest child's play. And then, in return, what rights do we enjoy?--If one could, on so serious a subject, be capable of indulging in a sorry joke--I might say that we have the privilege only of having absolutely no rights at all. For, that which here in India goes by the name of law and justice, is in reality nothing more than the merest burlesque; and that is especially true in all matters which concern the revenue. Wherever there is a little money to be made, the State flings itself upon its victims as some ravenous beast leaps upon its prey, and then one may look in vain for the smallest protection--least of all in any case which concerns that imperium in imperio the terrible opium monopoly!"

"You are exaggerating, you are talking wildly!" cried van Rheijn.

"I wish I were," continued Grenits; "but just take up that terrible book 'Might versus Right,' a book written by a member of the High Court of Justice at Batavia, who was formerly, for many years, Attorney General in that same court, and for half an ordinary lifetime was president of the Residential Council. A man, therefore, who ought to know, and who does know what he is talking about, and then--when you have read what he has to say--tell me if I am exaggerating."

"Oh, the writer of that book is another grumbler!" said van Rheijn, "whose only object is to set the whole world against the functionaries of our Administration."

"That is a very heavy accusation to bring against a man who, in my opinion, is thoroughly honest, and who has had the courage, and therefore deserves the credit, of having told the plain unvarnished truth. Such, however, is our national gratitude!"

"Oh yes!" cried van Rheijn, "I am not at all surprised to find you commercial men in ecstasies about that man and about his book. To all grumblers it is of course meat and drink."

"Let me tell you, my good fellow," said Grenits, "that those whom you call grumblers have had good cause given them for discontent."

"Come, come," said the other, "you talk very finely; but after all they are only a pitiful handful of very tame insurgents. Depend upon it we shall manage very easily to keep order among them."

"Yes, yes, I know," said Grenits, bitterly, "that is the old stock phrase. It was used some little time ago by certain organs of the Dutch press when the people, exasperated by vexatious extortions, strove--by perfectly legitimate means mind you--to resist acts of arbitrary injustice and exaction on the part of the Dutch Government.

"Tame insurgents!" continued he, vehemently. "Tame insurgents! By heaven! let them not at home taunt us much longer with that name. A very little more, and they will be at their wits' end to deal with an insurrection which will prove itself anything but tame. Don't let them forget, yonder, that, to carry on a miserable war like that at Atjeh, they had to sweep up the scum of Europe; for you know that Dutch heroism in our towns at home made the poor wretches whom they manage to press for that service sing the pleasant refrain:

'My life is pain and woe, To Atjeh I will go ...'"

"Grenits, Grenits!" cried Verstork, trying to calm his friend's growing excitement.

"Yes," said he, "my dear Verstork, I am wrong and I am going too far, I have very nearly done. But those heedless words, 'tame insurgents,' have worked a great deal more mischief than those who first uttered them could possibly foresee. They have proved to us that, in our lawful resistance to extortion, we have nothing to expect but only contempt and abuse. May God in his mercy protect Holland! But I have good reason to know that if a man were to arise amongst us possessed of the necessary talent for organisation, and one who, at the same time, had sufficient tact to gather around him all that discontent which at present is powerless because it is divided amongst itself--If such a man, I say, were to arise who could make the most of the utter state of perplexity they are in yonder--we, the 'tame insurgents,' would make our mother country pass through very evil days indeed!"

"Well," said van Rheijn, "all that is not so very formidable after all. In case matters came to the worst, the army would know how to do its duty."

"Its duty!" cried Grenits. "That sounds well from you who just now were the first to scoff at those 'soldier fellows'. But I ask you this one question:--Has the Government any right whatever to reckon upon the fulfilment of that duty? Has it not neglected, in the most shameful manner, its duty towards that army? I will allow--I am indeed fully persuaded--that in spite of any treatment the officers would stick to their duty, and would do it strictly and honourably. But--! can one expect as much from all the foreigners, which have been shipped out hither? Why, even now in Atjeh, they are deserting to the enemy with bag and baggage, with arms and ammunition--and, in the case I was supposing, they would go over in entire companies. Can one look for any sense of duty in these poor wretched native soldiers, who have almost to a man, by the most shameful means--by opium, by gambling, by the allurements of the vilest women--been pressed into the service. No, no, pray don't go on deceiving yourselves."

"There!" cried van Rheijn, "now you are simply talking treason--your language is seditious."

"Treason, do you call it?" cried Grenits, passionately. "When I do nothing more than lay my finger upon the wound?"

"Gentlemen," said Verstork interposing, "methinks it is high time to close this discussion. Such topics are very apt to make men hot, and--moreover, why, it is just past midnight. We must go and get some rest, for to-morrow we must be up by day-break and we have a very fatiguing day before us. The Djoerang Pringapoes which you visited with me this evening, is no ball-room let me tell you--you will find that out to-morrow. Come, let us all turn in and get some sleep!"

At these words all, except van Nerekool, rose and prepared to retire.

"I am very glad," said Grashuis, "that old Muizenkop was not present at this conversation. Had he been here, by to-morrow evening the Resident would have known all about it, chapter and verse, with no doubt the necessary additions and flourishes. And then, my good friend Grenits, you would have had a 'mauvais quart d'heure.' Who knows, they might have packed you off to Atapoepoe or to Tomini Bay; perhaps they might have kicked you out of the island altogether. Remember poor lawyer Winckel!"

Grenits shrugged his shoulders disdainfully.

"Are you coming to bed?" asked Verstork as he walked up to van Nerekool who was still seated with his head resting on his hand outside the hut which the others had already entered.

Van Nerekool made no reply, he merely looked up and stared into the face of his friend with a strange dazed expression.

"What in the world is the matter with you, old fellow?" said Verstork as he laid his hand on his shoulder and sat down by the side of his friend. "You have been so silent and so absent all day, you must be ill I fear!"

"No, William, I am not ill, but I feel so very--so very wretched."

"Wretched!" said Verstork, "come now, tell us all about it, there's a good fellow, let me bear some part of your sorrow!"

"Ah!" sighed van Nerekool, "I can tell you nothing--nothing that you could share with me. William, my dear friend, you recollect our conversation of last Saturday night at Santjoemeh?"

"Every word of it," replied Verstork. "I then told you that in one week's time I would give you my reasons why I considered your love affair with Miss van Gulpendam a very sad business. That week is up to-day--is it not?"

"Yes, my friend," said van Nerekool very sadly. "But you can tell me nothing now. During the last week many things have happened. I suppose that even on Saturday last you knew that Resident van Gulpendam was not at all well disposed towards me?"

To that question Verstork gave no direct reply; but he insisted upon being told all that had taken place.

"Come," said he, "come, Charles, tell me all about it. You know perfectly well that you have in me a true friend. Let us hear all about it."

"But," replied van Nerekool, "you want rest. You ought to go to sleep. To-morrow you have a hard day before you."

"Oh!" said Verstork, lightly, "never mind about that. I have often enough gone the rounds of the government coffee-plantations, and have passed many a sleepless night in the dessas with quite as hard a day in prospect as to-morrow is likely to be. I can very easily afford an old friend like you an hour or so of sleep. Do pray speak out."

Charles van Nerekool hesitated no longer. He felt indeed in great need of sympathy; and wanted, above all things, to pour out his heart to his friend. He began his story therefore, by telling him how, on the occasion of the State-ball, he had declared his love to Anna.

In the most vivid colours he described to his friend that happy moment in which, carried away by the excitement of the dance and the glorious tones of Weber's waltz, he had allowed the long-treasured secret of his heart to escape from him; and his rapture when the girl, whom he so dearly loved, had uttered the one little word which assured him that she returned his affection. He told him of that sacred moment when their lips first met in the garden.

"Oscula qui sumpsit, si non et caetera sumpsit Haec quoque quae data sunt, perdere dignus erat."

muttered Verstork to himself. He, in his youth, had studied the classics, and now he could not help smiling as he recalled the two well-known lines from Ovid's Ars Amandi. But when he saw with what a sorrowful shake of the head his friend answered the half audible quotation, he at once discovered how deep a wound had been struck into that poor heart. The story of that blissful love-scene and of those happy moments spent in the garden of the Residence in the shade of the Padan arbour, was followed by an equally graphic description of the rude awakening out of that dream of love and felicity. Charles van Nerekool went on telling his friend how Mrs. van Gulpendam had broken in upon the interview--he told him all about the conversation which he afterwards had held with fair Laurentia.

A very very bitter smile passed over the Controller's lips when he heard what means of seduction the Resident's wife had deigned to employ.

"My poor friend, my poor friend," he muttered almost inaudibly; "but is this all?"

"Oh, no!" cried van Nerekool.

"Well, go on, I am all ears."

"The next day," continued van Nerekool, "I paid a visit to the Residence, as I had promised Anna I would do; in order to lay before her father my formal request for her hand. I had great difficulty in obtaining an audience at all; and it was not until after I had waited for a considerable time that I got to be admitted into the presence of the Resident.

"'I have not very much time to spare, sir,' were his first words of welcome when he saw me enter the office in which he sat to receive me.

"'I have not very much time to spare, therefore I beg you will at once get under weigh.'

"'Mr. van Gulpendam,' I began, 'yesterday I had some talk with Miss Anna--and--'

"'Do pray set sail at once,' cried he, interrupting my opening speech, 'I tell you again I have no time for dawdling. I may at once tell you that I do not think it a very proper thing for a gentleman to get a young girl into a quiet corner. Fair and above board is my motto, sir. An honest man sails straight into port. All that tacking and trimming are not to my taste, I can tell you.'

"'My dear sir!' cried I, 'I have already told Mrs. van Gulpendam that the excitement and the surroundings had quite thrown me off my guard. It is now, and it always was, my intention to ask you fairly and openly for your daughter's hand. There can, between us, be no question of any intrigues or mysteries, and my presence here, Mr. van Gulpendam, has no other motive than to declare to you my love to Miss Anna, and to obtain your sanction to our union as man and wife.'

"'So, so,' said he, 'does the wind sit in that quarter? You have pricked your chart very prettily indeed. Now would you like to know what I have put down in my log, eh?'

"'Mr. van Gulpendam, I can assure you that I never was more serious in my life--the question is to me one of the utmost importance,' said I, amazed and disgusted at all this sea-jargon. 'In heaven's name let us lay aside all jesting. I simply have the honour of asking you for the hand of your daughter.'

"'Mr. van Nerekool,' he replied, 'I also am in a most serious mood.' This he said in a somewhat nettled tone, however, not another nautical expression passed his lips during the interview. 'How can you suspect me of jesting, when I ask you whether you can surmise to what decision I am about to come with regard to your question?'

"'I hope,' cried I, 'that your decision will not be unfavourable to me! Oh, sir, I love Miss Anna with all my heart and with all my soul!'

"'Of course, of course,' said he, 'these are the regular stock phrases of all lovers. Now, are you really and seriously in love with her?'

"'How can you ask such a question?' cried I, vehemently.

"'Well,' replied van Gulpendam, 'I have my reasons,--and they are very good reasons too--for doing so. You had an interview yesterday evening with my wife, had you not?'

"'Yes, Resident,' was my reply.

"'And the conversation you then held with her opened up to you the prospect of a future career. I think I am right there?' was his second question.

"I simply sat staring at the man in utter amazement. Never, never, could it have come into my head that he and his wife were of the same way of thinking in such a matter as that."

"Why not, pray?" asked Verstork, very quietly.

"Why, my dear friend, I looked upon the Resident as worldly and frivolous indeed; but I thought he was an honourable man, and one who kept himself altogether clear of the intrigues in which his wife appears to dabble."

Again the bitter smile curved Verstork's lips; but in the deep shadow of the the Wariengien tree, van Nerekool failed to perceive it.

"Go on," said Verstork, who, though deeply moved, spoke in so perfectly quiet and composed a tone of voice, that his friend did not notice his feelings.

"To his last question," resumed van Nerekool, "I replied, 'Yes, Resident, you are right. Mrs. van Gulpendam did make me certain proposals.'

"'She spoke to you then of your future prospects, as well as on the subject of your present request?' asked the Resident.

"'Yes, Resident,' was my reply,--indeed I was growing very nervous.

"'Well, then,' resumed he, 'you see that you have the making of your career entirely in your own hands; and I do hope that you will now at length prove yourself a man of some practical common sense.'

"My dear William! at these words, which, you will notice, cast a grave suspicion upon the motive of my request, upon which, however, my entire happiness depended, I felt, as it were, the ground sinking away from under me.

"'But, Resident,' I cried, in despair, 'do you really know what Mrs. van Gulpendam did propose to me?'

"'Well, yes,' he said, in a very off-hand and somewhat mocking manner, 'pretty well, pretty well, I think. She held out to you the prospect of being appointed successor to the present Chairman of the Council at Santjoemeh, which important position, I think she told you, might very probably be permanently conferred upon you. Further she did not refuse you her daughter's hand--whom you declare that you love so very dearly. You see I am pretty well informed. Now, if you have called upon me this morning to ascertain what guarantees I can give you that these proposals will be realised--and allow me to tell you that is the course a sensible man would certainly take--then, I think I may say, you need not be uneasy.'

"This utterly false interpretation of my motives, stung me to the quick. What ignoble thoughts and sentiments must have been stirring in that bosom!

"'Mr. van Gulpendam!' I cried out, interrupting him, very warmly, 'I was not in the least thinking of those proposals. Still less, if possible, did I call here this morning in order to ascertain your intentions--nothing of all this was present to my mind when I asked you whether you were aware of the offers Mrs. van Gulpendam made me last night.'

"'Indeed,' said he very coolly, 'then I fear I have misunderstood you altogether, Mr. van Nerekool. In that case with what intention did you put that question to me?'

"'What was my intention?' I replied. 'Why, my intention was simply this. Are you aware that Mrs. van Gulpendam asked me to violate my oath and my duty?'

"'Oh, come, come,' said he all but laughing at me.

"'Are you aware,' I continued still more hotly, 'that I was actually required to send a poor innocent man into banishment?'

"'My dear sir, you must be dreaming,' said he in the same tone of banter.

"'Are you aware,' I still continued, 'that the prospect of obtaining your daughter's hand, that honours and promotion were offered me at the price of a human life?'

"'Now Mr. van Nerekool,' cried van Gulpendam with much assumed indignation, 'now you are going too far! I forbid you to utter such insinuations and to make such charges against my wife. What! you come here to me to ask me for my daughter's hand, and you think you will obtain your request, I suppose, by heaping insults and slanders upon the mother of the woman you pretend to love!'

"'Insults and slanders!' I exclaimed.

"At these words of mine he cooled down immediately.

"'Well' said he, 'perhaps the expression is too strong. There must be some misunderstanding.' And then, very quietly, he went on: 'Your proposal, Mr. van Nerekool, is a great honour both to my daughter and to myself. It has, however, come upon me so very unexpectedly that I feel sure you will allow me some time for reflection. I must indeed take some little time to consider a matter upon which the entire happiness of my daughter will depend. Moreover, you see there can be no hurry. Anna is very young--she is indeed much too young to think of marriage just yet.'

"'You do not therefore deprive me of hope?' I exclaimed and, in my excitement, I seized his hand and held it.

"He looked at me in astonishment. 'I can promise you nothing, absolutely nothing, Mr. van Nerekool. Anna has plenty of time before her, she can take a year--two years, perhaps--before she decides upon a step which involves a union for life. By that time we can talk over these matters again. Meanwhile--' He broke off hesitating.

"'Meanwhile?' I asked almost breathlessly.

"'Meanwhile,' he continued very coldly, 'you will do well not to continue your visits at the Residence. I know you do not wish to compromise a simple-hearted and honest young girl, I shall, therefore, not expect to see you here excepting, of course, at our official receptions.'

"That was plain speaking enough,--was it not William? It was tantamount to a refusal."

Verstork looked at his friend with very real and deep sympathy.

"I had a presentiment," he said, "of the trouble that was awaiting you. You remember in what manner I received your communication last week?"

"Yes, and to-day you promised you would let me know why--"

"Now tell me, Charles," said Verstork, "is there any need for me to say anything more? You must, by this time, I presume, have been able to form a pretty accurate estimate of the family circle into which you would have been received in case your offer had been accepted."

"But William, Anna--!"

"Oh, yes," cried Verstork, "I know Anna is the purest and most amiable creature in the world. I know, as well as you do, that Anna is absolutely innocent of all this intrigue and trickery. Indeed I have often wondered how so fair a flower could have opened and developed in the midst of such surroundings. But, let the girl be--why simply what she is--however adorable she may be, if you marry her you cannot help being fettered to her parents, who are most certainly the most self-seeking and most corrupt beings which can possibly be found in any respectable society. My dear friend, just reflect how utterly and hopelessly wretched you would be tied to such a pair of schemers. That, my dear fellow, was the very thing I wanted to point out to you."

Van Nerekool heaved a deep sigh and, lost in thought, did not answer a word. He sat as one in a dream, with his head resting on his hand, peering upwards into the vast crown of the Wariengien tree through which the moon, now high up in the heavens, was casting her soft white beams.

For awhile Verstork respected his friend's silence. At length he said: "Come now, Charles, you have, I hope, somewhat relieved your breast. I have with a single word been able to draw your attention to that which it imported you much to know. Now try and forget all this for a while in sleep. You have this day had a long--and to you who are unaccustomed to such exercise--a necessarily fatiguing ride. Rest will, therefore, be most beneficial to you. To-morrow still greater fatigues are in store for you. These also I hope will be a distraction, and prove wholesome to your mind. If we would be fit for work to-morrow we must get some sleep. Come along."

Van Nerekool sighed again. Without a word he rose, he pressed the hand of his friend and then followed him into the hut. The others were already fast asleep, and he stretched himself out by their side upon the wooden bench.

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XVII. IN THE DJOERANG PRINGAPOES

Toeaan!--Toeaaan!--Toeaaaan!--

Such were the most unwelcome sounds which, a few hours later, were heard in the hut in which all our friends lay heavily sleeping.

Gentle sleep had, at length, taken compassion on poor van Nerekool also. For a long time after his conversation with Verstork, he had not been able to close an eye; and had been tumbling and tossing about and making the crazy couch creak and groan to such an extent that Leendert Grashuis and August van Beneden, who were close beside him, had uttered many an angry exclamation:

"For heaven's sake keep quiet! don't keep rolling about like that--it is enough to make a fellow sea-sick--" and then again:

"The majesty of the law seems uncommonly restless to-night; perhaps the mosquitoes trouble it, or an unquiet conscience, or a fit of the blues."

But at length, thank God, Charles had fallen into a deep sleep; he was not destined, however, very long to enjoy that blissful rest.

"Toeaan! Toeaaan!" Thus once again the voice began to cry. It was the voice of Verstork's servant who had got the watchman of the guard-house to wake him, and was now very cautiously trying to rouse his master out of his sleep.

But the Javanese servant felt that he was engaged in a very ticklish duty; and he set about it with all the circumspection which he was aware such unpleasant duties required.

He knew, by sad experience, that European gentlemen are apt to lose their temper when suddenly, at a very early hour, they are aroused out of a delightful sleep; therefore, on all such occasions the wily Javanese serving-man preferred to keep at a respectful distance from his Kandjeng toean, who, he knew, might at such a time be easily moved to raise his hand and deal him a sound box on the ears for his trouble. Not that Verstork was at all given to such rough usage of his servants; on the contrary, he was known and beloved among the natives for his kindly consideration, and for the coolness of his temper. But this was a wholly exceptional occasion, and one could never tell what the sudden irritation of being roughly shaken out of a pleasant slumber might produce. It was very easy to get a good slap in the face, and therefore the astute Javanese prudently kept himself at a safe distance.

"Toeaan! Toeaaan!" he ventured to say again in a very intense drawling whisper. But Verstork did not hear him.

"Toeaan! Kandjeng toeaan!"

Still not a word!

Then the servant very cautiously crept up to the couch. When he was close to his master he again cried out, in a still more subdued and still more drawling voice, "Toeaaan! toeaaaan!"

Still Verstork stirred not a limb, only van Nerekool seemed to have caught the sound, and was beginning to move about restlessly.

Then the man, very gently--so gently that it could not disturb the sleeper--began to fold back that part of the rug which covered his master's feet. The faint glimmer of the lamp which hung dangling from one of the rafters, just allowed him to see what he was about. When he had laid bare one of Verstork's feet, he began very, very gently to tickle his master's great-toe, while in the same cautious manner he again whispered "Toeaaan! toeaaaan!" and seemed, by the very humility of his voice, to beg pardon for the liberty he was taking in rousing his high and mighty master.

This tickling of the toe had, at once, the desired effect. Starting up Verstork sat up and cried:

"Who is there?" As he said these words he put his hand to his foot, evidently fearing that a snake had touched him. Indeed, the chilly and leathery skin of a native may very easily convey such an impression, especially on a man who is but half awake.

"Who is there?" he cried again. But by this time the Javanese servant had, with a bound, jumped away out of the possible reach of his master's hand, and from the furthest corner of the hut he said: "It is I, Kandjeng toean!"

"What do you want?" roared the Controller, now thoroughly aroused, and not in the sweetest temper.

"It is now four o'clock, and the dessa people are all waiting."

"Is that all?" growled Verstork, who thought that his rest had been very unnecessarily disturbed. Who knows what absurdity he might in his drowsiness have added, had not the "toeaan, toeaan" of his servant, and the subsequent noise awakened van Beneden also, who was sleeping quite close to him.

He jumped up at once, and the moment he was awake began, as the Resident might perhaps have said, to turn up all hands.

"Come boys!" he shouted cheerily "Come boys, get up all of you!" as he threw himself from his bed with such energy as made the slight bamboo structure sway and creak as if it had been rocked by an earthquake.

"What's the matter, what's up?" cried several voices starting out of sleep.

"What's up?" cried van Beneden. "There's nothing up! You get up, all of you, as fast as you can. It is four o'clock, and the dessa folk are all ready for the chase."

That word acted like magic. In a twinkling all were on their legs. They dressed, washed, combed, brushed themselves as well as one can perform all these processes in the interior of a dessa, which offers no great facilities for an elaborate toilet to Europeans who have passed the night in a small country hut.

For washing, indeed, there was no convenience at all--the only basin in the place was a mere potsherd. But, all were anxious to be off, and like soldiers who, in the field, have not always Sèvres or even Delt at command, they did the best they could, and soon completed their hasty toilet. Diogenes, the Greek philosopher of Sinope, had frequently, no doubt, dressed himself in much the same fashion. In a few moments all were ready, even van Nerekool who was bent upon seeking some relief for mental pain in physical exertion.

When they stepped out of the cabin they saw the entire male population seated cross-legged on the village green, trying to protect themselves from the cold morning air by drawing their sarongs as far as possible over their shoulders. Every man had brought his lance, and had stuck it upright before him into the ground. Every one of them held a huge rattle, an instrument very like that with which our old watchmen used to murder sleep while they pretended to keep guard over the sleepers.

The moon was, by this time, casting her beams under the branches of the Wariengien tree, and, as the pale light shone upon that strange group of human beings seated there in a crouching posture, it illustrated most vividly the theory of Darwin, so very much did that assembly look like a great conclave of apes.

"Are all your men here, Loerah?" asked Verstork.

"Yes, Kandjeng toean."

"Very good. Then send one part of them round by the maize fields of the dessa, let the second division spread itself to the westward over the neck of the Dojerang Pringapoes, and let the rest go right into the ravine."

"Yes, Kandjeng toean--But--!"

"Well, but what?" asked Verstork, noticing the Loerah's hesitation.

"May not the animals," said the chief, "thus make their escape through the eastern side of the ravine?"

"How so, Loerah?" said Verstork. "You have heard, I suppose, that the people from Banjoe Pahit will occupy the whole of the eastern side, and part even of the western side of the ravine? Very good, now we understand each other I hope. We shall get on horseback at once, and will post ourselves in the upper part of the pass, and, if our instructions have been properly carried out, the whole of the game must come that way. Now, just listen carefully to what I have to tell you, Loerah."

"Yes, Kandjeng toean."

"As soon as we have got to the upper part of the ravine we shall fire a shot."

"Shall we hear it, sir, right down at the bottom?"

"You are right, Loerah, quite right, it is a good distance--perhaps too far--Well then, I will tell you what you must do. As soon as day begins to break--but, mind you, before the sun has fairly risen--you will set your beaters to work. But, whatever you do, take care that the beasts have the road to the ravine left open to them."

"Yes, Kandjeng toean," was the invariable answer of the Loerah, always spoken in the most respectful tone.

Then in the deepest silence the beaters betook themselves to their posts while the European horsemen took the road to Banjoe Pahit.

As yet it was quite dark, so that the horses had to proceed at a very slow walk. This very moderate pace was absolutely necessary, because the road which they had to follow was a narrow path leading through the flooded rice fields, and the slightest deviation might have led to a highly unpleasant mud-bath. Presently, however, a faint streak of light was beginning to show itself on the eastern horizon. At first it was all but imperceptible, it seemed like a faint reflection of the waning moonlight; but gradually it became broader and deeper, then is began to spread a fiery glow over the eastern sky, and made the stars, which were still brightly twinkling in the zenith, to pale and fade away. The narrow path kept winding upwards; for Banjoe Pahit, towards which the riders were making their way, lay on much higher ground than Kaligaweh which was situated on the low foreshore. As the dawning light grew clearer and brighter, the horsemen were able to mend their pace, and soon the horses were going along at a good sharp trot, impelled, in a measure, by the instinct which told them that they were heading in the direction of their stables.

The upper end of the ravine was reached in good time, and the horsemen dismounted and gave their beasts in charge of a couple of Javanese servants who had come to meet them along with the body of beaters from Banjoe Pahit to which Mokesuep also had joined himself. These men at once took the horses home to the dessa.

It was not yet full daylight. The western sky was still a deep dark blue; but in the East the dawn was clothing itself in all the brilliant hues which herald the near approach of the perfect day. On all sides trees and bushes grew in the wildest disorder, and in their branches birds innumerable were piping and warbling, each, in his own way, sending up his hymn of praise to the great Creator. Leaves, twigs, boughs, flowers, and grass-blades, all were thickly covered with the tiniest possible specks of dew; and, as the light gradually brightened in the East, seemed bathed as it were in molten silver.

In spite of their impatience to begin their work upon the game, our young friends could not help pausing for a few moments in order to admire the magnificent spectacle before them, and to enjoy the delightful freshness of that glorious time which immediately precedes a sunrise; when suddenly, very far in the distance, was heard the confused noise of a most frightful tumult.

"There they go!" cried Verstork, "those are our beaters, what a row the fellows are making to be sure."

The natives were indeed hard at it, springing their rattles, banging on bamboos, yelling and screaming in a manner which drowned every other sound in nature, especially in that solemn morning hour when the orb of day is just about to rise.

At first the noise was heard as a mere confused hum very far away in the distance; but, as it gradually drew nearer and nearer, it became so exciting that even poor van Nerekool, forgetting his woes for a while, ran up and down clutching his rifle with trembling hand, and some of his companions, more excited even than he was, had their weapons at full cock, ready to open fire at a moment's notice.

"Now then, my friends," said Verstork, trying to calm down all this unnecessary flurry; "pray keep quiet. We have plenty of time before us. Please all keep cool, or we shall have some accident with those firearms."

"Are we in a good position here?" asked Grashuis.

"We are standing too close together it strikes me," remarked van Beneden.

"I intend to take you a little further into the ravine," said Verstork.

So they all advanced some fifty or hundred yards along a steep pathway which ran winding down through shaggy bushes and rocky boulders. Just by the side of that rugged path, the brook Banjoe Pahit began its downward course along its bed of rocks. It was a wonderfully beautiful little stream; its waters of the purest crystal went dancing from crag to crag, forming, in one place, a pleasant little basin or pool, at another tumbling down in foaming cataracts and splashing waterfalls, then, suddenly and mysteriously, disappearing altogether for a while amidst the wild shrubs and rugged boulders, and then a little further on, springing up again to renew its brawling and wanton play. The scene in the Djoerang Pringapoes was as wild and savage as possible, but marvellously picturesque withal. When the party had clambered down about a third part of the slope, the massive walls of rock which, up to that point, completely hemmed in the entrance to the ravine and which formed a kind of slit, suddenly ran back like the sides of a funnel, while they continued grandly and majestically to tower up into the sky.

The bottom of the ravine, however, as well as its walls, bore abundant evidence of great natural convulsions. Huge boulders were flung about in it at random in all directions, the stems of the trees which grew there were twisted and curled up into lumps and knots and were still bearing tufts of withered grass and nests of dry branches; the smoothly polished rocks also amply testified that when the north-east wind opened the sluice gates of heaven and the water-floods came down in torrents from the heights--the Banjoe Pahit could howl and roar along, and form dreadful currents and whirlpools; and that, at such times, it was well to keep out of the now quiet defile.

As the hunters were looking about them at the savage scene around, the din made by the beaters was gradually coming nearer and nearer. It was still a considerable way off and not a solitary head of game had shown itself.

"I wonder how that is?" said August van Beneden. "I fancied that we might have set to work shooting at once. May not our wild boars, if there are any at all in this ravine, have got away by some other road?"

"No, no," replied Verstork, "the Djoerang Pringapoes is hemmed in on almost all sides with perpendicular rocks, such as not even a wild pig can climb. There are two or three spots where the walls are not quite so steep, and which such animals might perhaps scale; but, if the Loeras of Banjoe Pahit and of Kaligaweh have carried out my instructions, these weak points have all been occupied by their men, so that none of the animals can have got away by them. The beaters, you see, with their abominable rattles are driving the pigs into the ravine, and I know they will all make for it, especially as it is their usual haunt."

"Aye, aye," said van Rheijn, "I see; but once in this ravine, depend upon it they will lie very close, there is plenty of room here for a game at hide and seek, and if they choose to get to cover, we may stand here waiting for them till doomsday."

"That might be so," remarked Verstork with a smile, "if the beaters would let them. But those fellows with their rattles will follow the pigs into the ravine and drive them in our direction. You will see how they will manage that presently. Just listen--what a row they are kicking up yonder--one would think they were a pack of fiends!"

Verstork indeed might well say so; for your Javanese, under ordinary circumstances cool and phlegmatic enough, can, on such occasions as a boar-hunt, display activity and energy in abundance. Then he seems almost beside himself; then he screams, he yells, he bellows, he whistles, he hisses, he crows, he shrieks. Then he frantically plies his rattle and, with any weapon he may happen to have in his hand, he bangs upon anything and everything he comes across, on trunks of trees, on stones--which, by the way, not unfrequently give out most melodious sounds--on the sheath of his kris--undoubtedly he would bring down a whack on the skull of his neighbour also were he suffered to do so. And all this for the mere purpose of making a noise, the most horrible din imaginable in order to drive the game, which by nature is wild enough, into the direction which he wishes it to take.

"Now," said Verstork, "just a few paces further on and then we come to the entrance of the Djoerang Ketjel where a small stream, which we call the Karang Aleh, flows into the Banjoe Pahit. After the junction the two streams flow together through the narrowest gorge of the Pringapoes. Look there, you can see the split in the rocks just ahead. You see we are bounded on all sides by sheer cliffs and the game must pass through this defile to reach the upper part of the ravine and get away."

"By Jove," cried van Rheijn, "this does not strike me as a very pleasant spot, the place looks like a picture of universal ruin and desolation."

Indeed it was a terrible scene. The ragged sides of the ravines, consisting entirely of grey lava-rock, towered up perpendicularly into the sky. Here and there, on the bare walls, a mass of stone seemed, in its descent, to have stuck fast; and, in course of time, a little soil had gathered on its surface. In this shallow layer of earth, vegetation had immediately sprung up and formed there, as it were, a little green island in the midst of the grey ocean of desolation. Huge fragments of jagged stone lay scattered about in the wildest confusion, and amidst these, many weird and unsightly plants grew and flourished, such as the Sembong, the Kemanden Kerbo and the Oering aring with its venomous prickles. There also were seen the gnarled and twisted stems of the Djatie doerie and of the Siwallan. These stunted trees raised their poor meagre crowns out of the sea of stone, and, by arresting the progress of the débris which the water-flood whirled along, served to block up the pass still more effectually.

"Now then, my friends," said Verstork, "let us divide--we are standing here much too close together. Van Nerekool, the Wedono, and myself will take our stand here just opposite this narrow pass. You, Leendert, go with August to the top of that piece of rock which you see yonder to the right. You Theodoor and Frits take up your position on that broken ground on the slope. From those points you will have the gorge completely under your fire, and--if you really are as good shots as you are supposed to be--why then not a solitary pig ought to escape us. But make haste, get into your places--the beaters seem to be getting quite close."

It was indeed high time; for every instant the infernal din was coming nearer and growing more distinct. It was, in fact, becoming positively deafening. It sounded as if a veritable Pandemonium had broken loose. Grenits made a very wry face when he found that Mokesuep was to be his companion; but he had no chance of remonstrance at thus being saddled with a most uncongenial companion, for he had to get to his post without delay.

The positions which the guns were to occupy had been admirably chosen and showed a perfect knowledge both of the game and of the ground. The marksmen were all posted in full view of one another, so that there could be no risk of accident, at the same time their fire commanded the narrow opening of the ravine which lay open before them. Moreover they were all directed to take their stand upon spots slightly elevated above the level of the soil and were thus, to a great extent, out of the reach of the fearful tusks of the infuriated animals. Thus then they stood, most eagerly watching; but, though the entrance to the Djoerang lay perfectly open before them with here and there a few stunted shrubs much too low and small to conceal even the smallest pig, not a vestige of any animal could be seen. This suspense seemed intolerably long to the impatient and impulsive Europeans who were far from being endowed with the calm phlegmatic temperament of the natives. The Wedono stood there quiet and motionless as a statue.

"I can see nothing whatever," shouted August van Beneden to his friend, making use of his hands as a speaking-trumpet. "I fancy our good dessa-folk have taken it easy and have allowed the game to slip away quietly to the right or left."

"It is my opinion that the ravine is empty," remarked van Nerekool, to whom this long inaction was more irksome than even to the others.

Verstork interpreted van Beneden's words to the Wedono who, rifle in hand, was standing by his side, and asked him if he thought it possible.

"It may be,--but--perhaps it is not so," was the chiefs cautious reply.

Still they waited, and waited--the din of the beaters was approaching with every moment and their yells became more distinct. A few minutes more would decide the question whether there was any game in the ravine or not, for a very short time would bring the beaters to the mouth of the opening.

Verstork was getting quite nervous with impatience, jokes were beginning to pass pretty freely among his friends, and although they were perfectly good-humoured jests and showed not the slightest ill-will towards him, yet they were not pleasant to listen to. Mokesuep was the only one who, in a singularly offensive tone, cried out:

"I say, Controller, I hope all that pork we are going to kill won't disagree with us!"--

"Hold your tongue, wretched Muizenkop," said Theodoor Grenits. "You always find some nasty thing to say!"

"That's all very fine," replied Mokesuep, "I can tell you I am getting beastly tired of standing here. A lot of fellows invited for a day's shooting, when there is nothing to shoot at!"

"The pigs were here all right enough," said Grenits, "you may depend upon that; I don't suppose you can blame Verstork if the beaters have allowed them to escape!"

Mokesuep was on the point of making some ill-natured rejoinder when Bang! Bang! Bang! went three rifle shots and interrupted his sneering remarks.

They were the rifles of Verstork, of van Nerekool and of the Wedono. These three were posted at the very mouth of the ravine, and had suddenly caught sight of a greyish indistinct mass of living things rushing towards the opening. Quick as thought, the three had thrown their rifles up to their shoulders and had opened fire upon the advancing herd of swine. The other hunters had, as yet, seen nothing. The rattling and yelling of the beaters seemed to redouble in intensity the moment they heard the first shots fired, and almost drowned the discordant grunts and groans of the pigs as they pressed into the narrow defile. From that moment however, all doubts as to the issue of the day's sport were at an end.

The three first rifle shots had bowled over the three foremost animals, one of which was a boar of gigantic size, and for a moment stopped the rush of the entire herd. The wounded animals lay on the ground, struggling and fighting, uttering fearful squeaks and striking out right and left with their formidable tusks at those who came behind, thus almost wholly blocking up the narrow opening. That lasted however only for a moment or two, for the noise of the beaters drove the creatures to such a pitch of fury that, in spite of all opposition, they rushed over the bodies of their fallen leaders. But the three men who had first opened fire, had, in those few moments, had time to reload, and an instant after, all the others posted to the right and left caught sight of the game and at once opened fire upon the dense struggling mass of pigs, hardly a single shot being lost. Thereupon a scene of the direst confusion ensued. The wounded animals tumbled over one another uttering groans and squeaks which baffle description. The hindmost ones, still urged on by the terrific noise of the beaters, fought and pushed their way to the front. The sows grimly defended their young and seemed to vent their fury upon the carcases of the dead and wounded, and, in that terrific melée, the bullets of the seven hunters kept plunging with the deadliest effect. The rifled breech-loaders poured shot after shot into the densely packed mass, and every moment the narrow gap became more and more impassible.

That went on for the space of about three minutes, during which the breech-loaders plied their unerring fire.

Presently van Nerekool said to Verstork: "Are we not running the risk of hitting some of the men in the rear?"

"Oh, no," replied Verstork, "if they have followed my instructions there is no danger whatever. A few yards lower down there is a sharp elbow in the ravine, so that if one of our bullets should happen to miss or to pass through the body of one of these beasts it must bury itself in the walls of rock. You hear--according to agreement, the fellows have already stopped their noise--they are not at all anxious to come to close quarters and to expose themselves to a stray bullet."

Meanwhile the fire had been kept up with hardly any cessation and with almost the same fatal effect. The grunting herd still was striving to push onward and to get clear of the deadly pass, and again and again the bullets knocked down the foremost, who in their death-struggle, dealt ripping blows all around.

But at length, after having for a while wallowed about hopelessly, a small remnant which still remained unwounded, suddenly headed round, led on by a huge black-coloured boar, and now no longer awed by the beaters, made a headlong charge back into the ravine from which they found it impossible to escape.

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XVIII. ENTRAPPED

"Hurrah! they have turned tail, they are making off!" exclaimed Mokesuep.

That hero had all the while been trembling with fear; he had been in mortal terror lest the pigs should break through the line of fire; for if they had succeeded in doing so, a close struggle with the sword bayonet would probably have ensued. Therefore he had most anxiously been peering about to see if he could discover any way of retreat up the steep mountain sides. If, during that morning there had been shots fired which had flown wide of the mark, such misses had been due to his shaking hand. Indeed, some of his bullets had gone right over the wall of rock which hemmed in the ravine on all sides; but most fortunately had not injured any of the Javanese who were beating on the other side. The unpleasant whistling, however, of the projectiles from Mokesuep's rifle had scared the natives, and it was in a measure owing to those stray shots that the beaters had given up the battue rather sooner than they ought to have done.

Grenits was in a rage. "What are you hurrahing about," cried he to Mokesuep, "you were never born to be a Nimrod, that's plain enough!"

"Well," stammered the coward, whose lips were still white with fear; "it is all right, is it not?"

"All right!" cried Grenits, "no, it's all wrong. Don't you see that the remnant of the herd will get clear away? Come! forward! They are getting away, I tell you, we must get after them and not let a single head escape! Forward, boys, forward!"

The other young men, who were just as much vexed as was Grenits at the unsatisfactory result of their hunt, rushed into the pass together rifle in hand. Mokesuep only, very prudently remained behind, not even could the Wedono get him to follow by crying out to him, "Come! quick, sir." Our hero merely shook his head and stood looking after his companions until they disappeared out of his sight. Then throwing his rifle over his shoulder he took the road to Banjoe Pahit as he muttered to himself:

"No doubt, that's all very well; but I shall take precious good care not to come into contact with that filthy vermin. No, no, I shall go and have a chat with the wife of Verstork's cook--who knows what I may manage to do in that quarter! A nice little woman that! A devilish sly dog that Controller; what fun if I could get some shooting over his preserves!"

Thus mumbling to himself he walked along and had gained the upper entrance to the Djoerang Pringapoes. From that eminence he could command a fine extensive view over the broad rice-fields which rose in terraces on the hill-slopes, and whose surfaces, flooded with water at that time of the year, lay glistening in the bright sunshine like so many polished mirrors. It was as yet very early--scarcely half past seven o'clock. Mokesuep stood there looking all around him, not indeed in admiration of the beauties of nature; for a creature of his stamp could have no eye for that kind of thing; but gazing about anxiously and more than half frightened at the silence and solitude in which he now found himself after the riot and confusion down in the ravine. In the far distance he could still distinguish the shouts of the hunters and could now and then hear a shot fired by them at the retreating game; but the noise of the hunt grew fainter and fainter, and as it gradually died away in the depths of the Djoerang, not another sound was heard round about. This sudden stillness had something very disquieting about it. Mokesuep half wished that some human being would appear to share the solitude with him, and yet, on the other hand, he was wholly afraid of meeting with some of the natives. He had heard dreadful tales of the robbers by which some of the inland parts of Java were infested and rendered unsafe; and though he had a rifle slung from his shoulder which might have inspired any other man with confidence, he was of far too cowardly a nature to put any trust in his weapon. He stepped along slowly and cautiously, and presently, at the foot of a small range of hills lying to the northward and which formed a continuation of the chain of mountains in which the Djoerang Pringapoes was situated, he discovered a solitary hut, partly hidden away in the thick underwood which grew around it. Close by a couple of oxen were grazing by the side of a pathway. This little road ran past the hut to the north-west, and winded along the low dykes of the rice-fields. As Mokesuep traced the pathway in its course over the hill-slopes, he suddenly perceived a human figure evidently making for the hut. It was the form of a woman, of that there could be no doubt. Mokesuep breathed freely again; in the presence of a woman, especially if that woman happened to "be a native, he felt brave enough; so he determined to wait for her, to try and enter into conversation and to walk pleasantly and sociably together to Banjoe Pahit. The approaching form, standing out boldly over the flooded rice-fields and reflected in their shining surface grew more and more distinct with every moment.

"By Jove," muttered Mokesuep, after having watched her for awhile, "by Jove, what a pretty girl! All the better for me--I shall have a charming walk with that dear little thing!"

He was, however, altogether out in his reckoning. When the girl got close to the hut, she took a side path which ran in a south-easterly direction downwards amongst the rice-terraces, and which appeared to lead to Kaligaweh. Great was Mokesuep's disappointment at seeing this, and he was about to call out to her. Just then a Javanese came out of the hut and began beckoning to the girl.

"By heaven!" muttered Mokesuep, "that is Singomengolo, the opium spy. What in the world is he doing here?" And immediately he concealed himself behind some bushes which were growing by the wayside.

It was indeed Singomengolo, the wretch whom the evening before we saw leaving Kaligaweh and riding to the lonely hut. Again and again, he beckoned to the girl; but as she did not heed him, he cried out:

"Dalima!"

At this call the girl turned for an instant. Yes, it was pretty little Dalima, the baboe in the family of Mrs. van Gulpendam. She stopped for a moment, while her features showed undisguised terror as she recognised the notorious opium-hunter, whom she knew well by sight. She did not, however, stop for more than a single instant, and then sped on again as fast as she could.

"Dalima!" again cried Singomengolo, "Dalima, where are you hurrying to?"

"I am going to Kaligaweh," said the girl in a nervous tone of voice.

"Well, just come here for a moment," continued Singo.

"No, no," she replied, "I have not an instant to spare, I must get to my father as quickly as I possibly can," and again she sped on her way.

"Come here, I say," cried Singomengolo, "I have something to tell you about your father!"

"Oh, yes, I know," rejoined the young girl, "they told me father is very ill--that is why I am in such a hurry."

"You are wrong," cried Singo, "your father is not ill--it is something much worse than that."

The girl stopped at once: "Worse than that?" she asked, "tell me, is he dead?"

"No--much worse!"

"By Allah--what is it?"

"Come here," said Singo, "and I will tell you. There are things, you know, that one cannot shout out by the wayside."

This brought Dalima to his side. As she walked up to him, she had to pass the bushes behind which Mokesuep was lying concealed--in fact, in passing she brushed by them. As usual Dalima was very neatly dressed. Round her waist she wore a gaily coloured sarong, her bodice was of pink cotton, and over her shoulders was folded a red kerchief, from one of the points of which dangled a bunch of keys.

She had a double melattie flower in her thick heavy tresses, which, in the midst of that ebon-black mass of hair, looked like a pretty white rose. Just then her face was covered with a rich flush caused partly by the exertion of her long walk, partly by the pleasant coolness of the morning air; but this rich colour added animation to her pretty features, and blended most harmoniously with the deep bronze of her complexion.

The experienced eye of the concealed fiscal functionary did not allow a single one of these charms to escape it. Yes, there were certain cases in which Mokesuep was by no means insensible to the beautiful, though its contemplation generally awakened evil passions in his breast; and not unfrequently led to criminal designs. What might have happened had he walked alone with Dalima to Banjoe Pahit, who can tell. For the present the appearance of Singomengolo forced him to remain in hiding.

When the girl had come close to the hut, she asked again: "What is the matter? tell me!"

"Come in with me," replied the opium-spy, "and I will let you know why your father has been taken into custody."

As he said these words, Dalima suddenly uttered a loud shriek. Singomengolo thought, of course, that the news he had told her and his rough manner of conveying it, had wrung that cry from the young girl; but Dalima had turned round abruptly and was trying to run away as fast as her feet would carry her. The fact is, she had, through the half open door of the hut seen the odious face of Lim Ho gazing at her with eyes dilated with passion. That sight made the poor girl turn and dart away; but she had hardly gone a few yards before Singomengolo overtook her, and grasping her wrists, tried, by main force, to drag her along with him into the hut. Dalima resisted with all her might. She screamed for help, she kicked at her captor and tried to bite the hands with which he held her arms tightly clasped. In fact she fought as desperately as a wild cat, determined to resist and defend herself to the very last. She was in hopes also that her cries might possibly be heard, for she was under the impression that just now she had seen a European on the pathway which crossed the road she was taking. Any other man but Mokesuep would have flown to the rescue of the poor child; who knows to what excess of heroism even he might have allowed himself to be carried--not indeed out of any feeling of kindly sympathy or from any chivalrous promptings; but in the hope of perhaps--Yes--in such a mind as his the foulest thoughts will spring even as venomous toad-stools on an unclean soil. But--he also had caught sight of Lim Ho--he had noticed that face burning with ignoble passion. At a glance he understood what was going on, and, at the same time, he resolved to keep perfectly quiet in order that he might reap the fullest advantage out of the situation.

Lim Ho's father was an enormously wealthy man, and when the safety or reputation of his son was concerned he would not mind coming down handsomely--a couple of thousand guilders or so were nothing to a man of that kind.

Poor little Dalima! In utter despair she had flung herself to the ground, most heartrending were her shrieks of agony, help! help! but it was all in vain. The mean wretch who might, by merely raising his hand so to speak, have set her free, kept himself snugly concealed. He looked upon the struggle with cynical eye, nay was actually gloating with satisfaction at the glimpses which now and then he caught of the charms, which, in the violence of her resistance, Dalima could not always keep concealed. This went on for some little time, and Singomengolo began to feel that it was impossible for him to drag her along any further without assistance from Lim Ho. He called to the Chinaman to come to his aid. The latter at once obeyed the call, came out of the hut, and tried to clasp the girl in his arms and thus carry her along. But when, in that attempt, he got a very painful bite in the ear, the wretch became mad with fury. He laid hold of the mass of hair which in the struggle had become loosened, and was now quite unrolled, and twisting his hand into the heavy tresses while Singomengolo still held the girl's wrists, he dragged her by main force into the hut. For a considerable time after that the fearful shrieks "Help! help! toean!" were still heard; but gradually they grew fainter and fainter until at length they ceased altogether. In the very far distance rifle shots still resounded; but even if Dalima could have heard them in the excitement of the struggle, she must have understood that her voice could not possibly reach so far, and that, in any case, if help did come, it must come too late.

How did Dalima happen to be on the fatal spot at that early hour?

The reader may remember how that, after having accomplished his heroic deed in the dessa Kaligaweh, Singomengolo had ridden away and had taken the direction of the lonely hut in the hill-country; and how, on his arrival, he had sent the man who lived there as his messenger to Santjoemeh. This man had two commissions to execute. In the first place he was told to go and give into Lim Ho's own hands a little note with which Singo had entrusted him, and, after having done that, he was to call at the Residence and was to tell baboe Dalima that her father Setrosmito had suddenly been taken dangerously ill and that he was most anxious to see her. The messenger, who was a very shrewd and clever fellow, had at once jumped on the back of one of those small and ugly, but well-nigh indefatigable Javanese ponies, whose muscles of steel seem never to tire and carry them in a surprisingly short space of time over vast distances. It was about eleven o'clock when he reached the stately mansion of babah Lim Yang Bing. He was very lucky, for he was not kept waiting a single instant, as Lim Ho happened to be within at the time. The son of the rich opium farmer lay reclining luxuriously upon a splendid divan, his long Chinese pipestem was between his lips and by his side on a small table stood a cup of arrack. He was listening in a kind of rapture to two of his servants, who, like himself, were children of the Celestial Empire. These fellows seated on low ivory stools were twanging on a kind of two-stringed fiddle or guitar, and were drawing tones out of their instruments which would not only have horrified a Vieuxtemps or a Paganini, but would have instantly dispersed even a meeting of tom-cats who, in the matter of harmony, are not usually reckoned to be exacting. Lim Ho no sooner caught sight of Singomengolo's emissary, than he jumped up from the couch, grasped the letter which the man held out to him, and eagerly scanned the very few words it contained. It was a document brief and laconic as a telegram but, to Lim Ho, of the deepest significance. The words it contained were only these: "Everything ready, be here by seven in the morning." The Chinaman pulled out his watch, he looked at the time while he asked the messenger what the weather was like.

"Bright moonlight, babah," was the man's reply.

Lim Ho then dismissed him, flinging him a rix-dollar, and telling him to be specially careful how he discharged his second commission. He ordered him to come and report the result to him, then he ordered his horse to be saddled and waited.

The man did not find his second task quite such an easy one to perform as the former. The Resident van Gulpendam and his wife were seated with some visitors at the usual card-tables; but the daughter of the house had already retired to her own room, and had given her baboe leave to go to bed without waiting up any longer. The fellow found it therefore necessary to go to the back of the premises, and at length he contrived to get one of the servants to go and rouse Dalima.

The young girl was terribly shocked at hearing the dreadful tidings of her father, whom the rascal represented as being in a dying state. She at once rushed into the pandoppo and entered the bedroom of her young mistress who, fortunately, had not yet retired to rest.

"Nana, give me leave!" she cried, in the greatest agitation, as soon as she had opened the door.

"Come," said Anna, "what is the matter with you? do try and be calm." The young lady had perceived at once that there was something very wrong, and tried to quiet her servant's excitement by herself remaining perfectly cool and self-possessed.

Thereupon Dalima told her that a man had just arrived from Kaligaweh with a message from her father who was lying at death's door, and who wished, for the last time perhaps, to see his daughter.

"Oh, Nana," begged the poor girl, "do try and get me leave to go home!"

"But, Dalima," objected Anna, "what is the time?" And looking at a handsome clock on a console close by, she continued, "Why it is close upon midnight!--It is out of the question--You could not possibly go out in the dark!"

"Oh!" cried Dalima, in pleading tones, "Nana knows that I am very brave. I know the way perfectly. I shall take the short cut over the hills; by that road I shall get to Kaligaweh without meeting anybody."

"That is just it," rejoined Anna; "it is that very solitude that I am most frightened at. You might come across a tiger or a wild boar."

"Why, Nana! there are no tigers anywhere in the neighbourhood; if there were we must have heard of them, and as for boars, I am not the least bit afraid of them, they always run away if they possibly can. Do pray, dearest Nana, get me leave to go. I promise you that by to-morrow night I shall be back again."

"I don't at all like the idea of it, Dalima. What will mamma say?"

"Oh, Nana dear," cried the baboe, in despair, "do pray go and try--do pray go and ask madam!"

"She is quite sure to refuse," said Anna.

"Why should she?" persisted the girl.

"She will be just as much afraid as I am that in the darkness of the night some accident may happen to you. How can you possibly dare to undertake such a journey, Dalima?"

"My father is dying--he wants to see me!" cried Dalima. "That is quite enough to give me courage for anything, Miss Anna. I would go to Kaligaweh even if I knew that the road was full of ghosts--yes, if there were a ghost behind every tree! Yet, I am much more frightened of ghosts than of beasts or of men. Nana, I beg and pray--do go and ask your mother!"

"Well," said the tender-hearted young girl, "I will go and try; but mind you, I know it will not be of the slightest use."

"Thank you, Nana, thank you."

Thereupon Miss Anna rose from the divan upon which she had taken a seat after she had admitted Dalima. She thrust her dainty little feet into a pair of slippers she had carelessly thrown off. The young girl was already partially undressed, and had been reclining in only her sarong and kabaai; but she very soon threw about her a richly embroidered morning gown, with a few turns of her dexterous hand she twisted the rich mass of her loose-hanging hair into a knot, and ran to the front-gallery in which her parents and the other card-players were still engaged in their game.

To her great surprise fair Laurentia made no difficulty at all, and at once acceded to her daughter's request, stipulating only that, before setting out, Dalima should finish some needle-work which she had given her to do and which she particularly wished to have ready by the morning.

Oh, no! Mrs. van Gulpendam had no objection whatever to Dalima's going to Kaligaweh; on the contrary, she thought it very praiseworthy in the girl that she showed so much devotion to her parents. A honey-sweet smile hovered on her lips as she gave her gracious permission, and no one--least of all her pure and innocent daughter--could have guessed at the awful abyss of wickedness which lurked behind that sunny smile.

Highly pleased with the result of her attempt, Anna hastened with her good news to Dalima, and in the kindness of her heart she gave up a considerable portion of her night's rest to assist her baboe in getting through her task of needle-work.

It is a dreadful thing to have to say; but Laurentia had not made that stipulation about finishing the work without an object. Her object was to delay Dalima's departure, so that she might not reach the hut in the middle of the night, and, in the darkness, perhaps pass it unobserved. Diligently assisted by her mistress, the baboe was able to set out on her journey about three o'clock in the morning. After having affectionately taken leave, Dalima left the premises by the back-way through a small garden gate, of which Anna had procured her the key. This gate took her straight into the road which led over the hills to Kaligaweh. The moon was shining brightly in the heavens, and thus the girl was able to walk along rapidly, and soon she lost sight of Santjoemeh while not a single thought of danger crossed her brain.

Lim Ho had been informed by Singomengolo's messenger that the pretty baboe had received the news of her father's illness--the reader however knows that a far different calamity had befallen Setrosmito--so he said in a highly satisfied tone:

"That is all right. You must be tired out, and I don't suppose you care to return to your hut to-night? Eh?"

"No, babah," was the man's answer.

"Very well, my people will show you a bedroom, you can go and have a rest. To-morrow I will pay you for your service."

As soon as the fellow had disappeared, Lim Ho consulted his watch.

"Nearly one o'clock," he muttered to himself, and then aloud he added:

"Than Loa, is the horse ready saddled?"

The servant replied with a couple of Chinese words, whereupon Lim Ho rose. He put on a kind of cap without peak, in shape not at all unlike a Scotch bonnet, then he snatched up a riding-whip and leaped into the saddle.

"Don't go to sleep--keep good watch--mind," he cried to his servant as he rode off, and setting spurs to his horse he was soon out of sight.

The main road which he took was a much longer one than the narrow foot-path which Dalima had chosen; but by starting thus early he knew he could easily get before her. He did not know that before she could set off to her father's bedside the poor girl would have a good deal of sewing to do, and he thought therefore that he had to hurry in order to be in time at the hut. But his horse was a fine animal of Persian breed, and he felt confident that it would bring him to the spot before Dalima could possibly reach it.

It was about half-past three when he dismounted and joined Singomengolo, whom he found waiting for him.

The pair of villains sat down to consult about the best way of carrying out their infamous attempt. During this consultation Lim Ho repeatedly showed signs of impatience at Dalima's unexpected delay. They were still talking together when the day began to dawn, and presently the sun rose, when, of a sudden, a dreadful outburst was heard in the far distance--a noise was heard of yelling, of rattling, of banging--it seemed as if the world was coming to an end. Lim Ho started up in terror from the mat upon which he was seated by the side of the opium spy.

"What on earth may that be?" he cried.

"Oh," replied Singomengolo as calmly as possible, "that is nothing at all--only the toean Controller of Banjoe Pahit going on a pig-hunt--the dessa folk of that place and of Kaligaweh are beginning to beat up the game."

"How do you know that?" asked Lim Ho.

"I was at Kaligaweh yesterday, and there I met the Controller and the company he has with him; they came to make the necessary arrangements for the day's hunting."

"You were at Kaligaweh?" asked Lim Ho.

"Of course I was, babah," replied Singo quietly. "I was there," he continued with a nasty smirk, "to catch old Setrosmito at opium-smuggling."

"Aye, aye," said Lim Ho, "that's true, I know now."

Lim Ho pronounced these words in a tone of voice which showed that to him the infamous plot whereby a victim had been removed out of his father's way, was the most trifling incident in the world, a bagatelle which had wholly escaped his memory.

"And did you succeed in finding opium?"

"Of course I did," replied Singomengolo, "you know well enough, babah, that I always succeed when it suits me to try."

"Yes, yes," said Lim Ho in a patronising way, "you are a clever fellow, there is no doubt about that. Dalima's father has, I suppose, been got rid of at least for a few weeks?"

"Yes, for a longer time than a few weeks," replied Singo very significantly.

"How so? Has anything else happened then?"

"Setrosmito has run amokh and has killed a countryman of yours outright, and severely wounded a policeman. It was precious nearly all up with me too; but I managed to slip away from him in the very nick of time."

"Good! good!" said Lim Ho, gleefully rubbing his hands together. "So that?" he continued.

"So that," remarked Singomengolo, "Dalima's father, if they don't hang him, will be at the very least imprisoned for life."

"You know," said Lim Ho, "that was wonderfully cleverly managed. But what's up now?"

In the distance a well sustained rifle-fire was heard, in fact the chase had begun.

"It is only the gentlemen in the Djoerang Pringapoes. They are firing at the wild-pigs I suppose. Allah prosper them!"

"But," said Lim Ho, "may not those white fellows get into our way, the ravine, you know, is not so very far off."

"The toeans," said Singo, "are a great deal too much engrossed in their sport to take any notice of what we are about. For myself, I much prefer to hear them blazing away yonder to their heart's content in the Djoerang Pringapoes, than to know that they are sitting quill-driving in their offices. Your white man with a pen in his hand is a much more formidable creature, and is much more formidably armed too, than when he handles a rifle."

Thus they sat talking and listening to what was going on beneath them in the Djoerang, while time was rapidly passing away.

"But Dalima does not seem to be coming," signed Lim Ho, with impatience.

"Yes, she is," said Singo, "yonder on that path between the rice-fields I see some one--that must be she."

"Look, look!" cried Lim Ho, in consternation, "there from the ravine comes a white man--now we have lost our chance."

Singomengolo turned his eyes in the direction which Lim Ho indicated, and, as he looked, he muttered a deep curse; he saw at once that the Chinaman had not been mistaken. Yet, he could not make out at all who it could be so quietly making his way towards the hut. He was one of the shooting party, there could be no doubt about that, for he carried a rifle and came from the direction of the Djoerang. And that wretched mar-plot must come right across Dalima's path, just as she was coming in the other direction! Everything had been so carefully planned--and now--that brute! It was enough to drive a fellow mad! But the next moment Lim Ho cried out joyously:

"By Jove, it is toean Mouse-head that is coming along there. I know him perfectly well. Now I don't mind a bit. I know him. You may call the baboe as much as you like, there is no danger. I will square matters easily enough with that fellow yonder!"

Lim Ho had recognised our friend Mokesuep. As the reader has been told, that gentleman used familiarly to be called by almost everyone in Santjoemeh, "Muizenkop," and this nickname some wags had translated into Javanese. Thus he went by the name of Kapala tikoes, or the Mouse-head. Singomengolo also recognised the exciseman of Santjoemeh, and now he no longer felt much apprehension that his detestable plot would be frustrated.

"A mere matter of money," said he to the Chinaman, with a significant smile.

As Dalima came to the crossway, and was about to enter the path which ran down to Kaligaweh, the opium-spy had left the hut, and was preparing to call to her to stop, when he saw the European hastily conceal himself behind the clump of bushes by the roadside. This move on the part of Mokesuep completely reassured the accomplices, and their wicked plot was crowned with the success with which the reader has already been made acquainted.

Even had Mokesuep felt any inclination to present himself in the character of rescuer, that impulse was wholly extinguished the moment Lim Ho appeared upon the scene. The wretched coward only hid himself more closely behind his screen of leaves as he muttered:

"By Jove, dame Fortune is playing into my hand--no one but an ass would refuse so fair an offer."

Meanwhile the despairing cries of poor little Dalima were gradually dying away as her strength began to fail, and as she became utterly exhausted.

"Help, help! toean, help!" was the last piercing shriek which re-echoed in that solitude. The only response, alas! was the well-sustained rifle-fire in the distance.

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XIX. HELP! HELP!

But yet, poor Dalima's shrieks and wild cries for help had been heard.

That part of the mountain cleft, into which the hunters had plunged in pursuit of the retreating wild boars, did not extend very far, it was not longer than about a thousand yards; but the bottom of the ravine was just there exceedingly winding, and, as it followed the tortuous course of the small stream Banjoe Pahit, it was strewn all over with huge fragments of stone, while the dark-grey walls of volcanic trachyte towered up almost perpendicularly to the height of more than fifty or sixty yards.

In that narrow pass the scene of confusion was utterly indescribable. The grunting and squealing of the maddened herd of swine, the yelling and rattling of the beaters who, on seeing the animals charge back, had resumed their unearthly noise, the almost incessant crashing of the fire from the breech-loading rifles--all these sounds, echoing and re-echoing within that narrow rock-bound gorge, made a din which was absolutely deafening.

The hunted animals now desperate and infuriated, madly charged at the line of native beaters, who seemed to them less formidable than their European foes. For a few moments the dessa folk attempted to make a stand, and thrusting about furiously with their lances, they made some ineffectual efforts to turn the beasts back again into the ravine. But they very soon had to give way before the charge of the formidable tusks, and took to their heels altogether as soon as the rifle bullets began to screech over their heads. Those cylindero-conical projectiles from the new-fashioned rifles make such a horrid screaming as they speed overhead on their deadly errand, that it is no wonder they demoralised the poor natives altogether. In less than no time the line of beaters had vanished before the charge of the boars, as the mountain mist before the morning sun. The greater part of the Javanese managed to swarm up the high rocky peaks, others darted up the trees; but not a single one ventured to remain within reach of the sharp tusks of the wild boars.

The animals were however greatly diminished in numbers and not very many of them succeeded, under the incessant rifle-fire, in getting clear of the pass. Upward of fifteen carcases lay stretched motionless on the ground; but a far greater number had received wounds more or less severe; which, however, in that climate were sure to prove fatal.

"Forward, boys, forward!" cried Verstork, excited by the success they had gained; "forward, we must not let a single one of that mischievous brood escape!"

That, however, was much more easily said than done. The hunters continued to press the retreating game, and contrived to fire many a shot and to bring down many a victim; but the pigs were uncommonly fleet of foot and now that the chain of beaters was broken and there was nothing to stop them, they were soon lost to sight amid the inextricable tangle of shrubs, tree-trunks, and boulders which encumbered the bottom of the ravine. Our European friends did their very utmost to keep up with the game; but it was a task which would have required nothing less than the nimbleness and dexterity of an orang-outang to accomplish, perhaps even that animal might have had to give up the pursuit.

Yes, there they stood at length, dead beat, their clothes in tatters, their hands torn by the thorns through which in the heat of the excitement they had forced their way, in one word, completely pumped out and exhausted, there they stood panting and gasping for breath. At length Verstork managed somewhat to recover his wind, and shouted to his friends to rally them.

"Where is Grashuis?" asked the Controller, looking around him.

"And where is Grenits?" van Rheijn managed to gasp out.

They were nowhere to be seen, and their friends were beginning to feel anxious about them, when a couple of rifle-shots in the distance informed the hunters that the two missing men were still obstinately bent on continuing the pursuit.

"That will never do," said Verstork, "we must go after them, one can never tell what may happen and what need there may be of assistance. But," continued he, "can any of you tell me where the shots came from?"

Every hand was raised at once; but they unfortunately all pointed in different directions. Had there been hands enough they would, no doubt, have indicated every point in the compass.

"There," said one.

"No, no, there," cried another.

"You are wrong," said a third, "they came from this side."

"That's a confounded nuisance," said Verstork much perplexed, "the shots took me quite by surprise and I really don't know from what direction they came. We must wait a bit, perhaps they will fire again."

"I am precious glad of it," said van Beneden, "now we can sit down and rest a bit on that rock yonder. I am regularly fagged out."

He had not, however, a very long rest, for barely ten minutes had elapsed before another shot was heard, and this was followed almost immediately after by a second discharge. This time the reports were evidently further off than before; but there was no mistake about the direction from whence they came.

"Come gentlemen," cried Verstork, as he snatched up his rifle again, "come, gentlemen, this way!"

"Might we not wait a few minutes longer?" pleaded van Beneden, "I am dead tired."

"Meanwhile," said the Wedono, as he pointed to the smooth trunk of a komessoe tree, "I shall get up into that tree. Perhaps I may catch sight of them."

The Javanese dessa-chief was a nimble young fellow, and using his hands and feet he soon was in the top.

"Can you see anything, Wedono?" cried Verstork.

"No, nothing yet, kandjeng toean," was the man's reply. "But--wait a bit--Yes, there they are yonder--both of them. They are clambering along the side of the ravine still after the pigs. But it is a good way off!"

"Come, gentlemen," said the Controller, "it won't do to sit here, we must be off at once, we must try and get up to them."

Meanwhile Leendert Grashuis and Theodoor Grenits had been running on ahead and were pursuing with the indomitable energy and hot enthusiasm of youth, a small family of pigs consisting of one gigantic boar, a sow and four young ones.

Helter skelter they rushed on, pursuers and pursued, over and under rocks, over and right through thorny bushes, sometimes by the side of the small stream, sometimes in the water in which the animals would plunge and disappear for a moment in the whirling eddies, and then reappear again vigorously swimming and struggling. Now and then, as the beasts were scrambling up the face of a rock, the two hunters would catch a momentary glimpse of their prey. Then they would try to steady themselves in order to get a fair shot; but before they could pull the trigger, the beasts had again disappeared among the stones and bushes, and then after them again in spite of the heat and fatigue. This continued for a while until the old boar led his party up the steep slope of the ravine wall, evidently with the view of gaining the open field at the top along which they could fly with greater speed. But, alas for them! that move on the part of their leader gave the rifles fair play. As soon as the animals began to ascend they became visible among the stunted grass which grew on the slope, and two shots resounded almost simultaneously. One of the little ones, mortally wounded, rolled down the slope and the old sow flew madly to its assistance. But the pains the poor animal took to get its young on its legs again and to push it along were all in vain, her instinct seemed to tell her that she must hurry back along with the others in order to escape from the deadly bullets. A moment or two afterwards, another young one lost its footing and began to stumble down the slope. The mother was on the spot again and trying to help it along. It was a touching sight indeed to see that mother defending and taking care of her little one, to see how she strove to push it along very gently yet very strongly too with her pointed snout, uttering the while the most loving and encouraging grunts. But hunters have no bowels of mercy. Scarcely had the pair proceeded a few yards before the two rifles cracked again, and sow and young one rolled to the very bottom of the ravine. As she fell she glared defiance at her enemies, while she kept her eye still fixed on her offspring and uttered a sharp squeal of warning to her mate above. At that moment a third shot was fired and the third little pig came rolling down to the very feet of the hunters.

The boar thereupon turned to bay uttering the most fearful grunts, turning up his bristles and drawing back his lips so as to show not only his formidable tusks but also the teeth which were white as ivory and sharp as chisels. Another shot was fired but missed and, when the smoke of the powder had cleared away, the boar and the only young one which was left had disappeared round a corner.

But Grenits and Grashuis did not for a moment think of leaving him to escape, and they at once proceeded to clamber up the steep rock in pursuit. They knew that to cut off the boar's retreat they must gain the top before him. But they found it no child's play. They kept on climbing with the most dogged determination; but they found the rocky slope, upon which even the split hoof of a wild boar could hardly keep a precarious foothold, a very dangerous path for a foot encased in a European boot. At length, after almost superhuman efforts, they had managed to clamber up to the top and, as they panted for breath, they anxiously looked around; but could discover not a vestige of the animals they had so painfully pursued. They had no doubt gained the top of the rock before them and had disappeared in the tangled underwood which covered the plain. To hunt any further for the fugitives would be sheer waste of time and of strength. Completely fagged out with their exertions, the two friends were about to throw themselves down on the grass under the shadow of some low bushes, when suddenly Grenits uttered a sharp cry. He found himself face to face with the terrible wild boar. The animal, on gaining the top of the rock with its young one, had, likewise exhausted, stretched itself out to rest, thinking it had shaken off the pursuit of its enemies. Now, however, it fancied that it was attacked in its very lair, and too weary to attempt to escape, it turned to bay and, as such animals will do, when driven to fury, at once assumed the offensive.

Grenits had but just time to jump aside and to bring his rifle into a position of defence. The boar nimbly avoided the bayonet thrust which Theodoor aimed at it, and then furiously turning upon his foe, he charged. It was a very fortunate thing for Grenits that his legs were encased in stout leather gaiters or else the sharp ripping tusk would have inflicted a terrible wound. But though the leather resisted the blow, yet such was the fury of the attack that Grenits lost his balance, fell backward, and for a second was in the most deadly peril.

Had he been alone, the furious beast would undoubtedly have flung itself upon him and in that defenceless position he must have been ripped open in an instant. Already the boar was darting at his fallen foe. For an instant Theodoor shuddered as he saw his bloodshot eye and felt the hot breath of the monster in his face. Then he closed his eyes and awaited the fatal thrust. But at that moment the beast uttered a wild grunt of rage and turned away from Grenits to face another opponent.

All this, though it takes some time to tell, had passed with the rapidity of lightning; but short though the time was, yet Leendert Grashuis had been able to shove a cartridge into the breech of his gun and to bring his sword-bayonet to the charge. He had no chance of firing however, for the shot would have been much more likely to injure his prostrate friend than to kill the boar. Not the fraction of a second was to be lost if he would save Grenits' life. Theodoor, as we have seen, was already lying helpless on the ground and the next instant must have been fatal. Then with all his might Grashuis drove his bayonet at the infuriated creature. The thrust caused a painful wound but glanced off on the right shoulder blade, while the monster at once turned to confront this fresh assailant The boar then tried to deal Grashuis a blow with its prominent tusks, but was caught on the bayonet. The force of the blow was such that the weapon bent like a hoop and was driven up to the muzzle into the boar's throat. For an instant Leendert thought of drawing his weapon back; but at once seeing the impossibility of doing so he pulled the trigger and the animal received the entire charge full in the head. With a terrific bound it sprang back tearing the rifle out of Grashuis' hands, then it turned round once or twice and fell down twitching convulsively in the throes of death. A few seconds afterwards, all was over.

All this had passed so quickly that the two friends scarcely realised what had happened. They stood for a second or two gazing at the death-struggle as if they were stunned and dazed; but presently the truth dawned upon them, and they began to understand how dreadful was the peril from which they had so narrowly escaped. Then they embraced and congratulated one another most heartily, Theodoor Grenits especially felt that he had escaped death as by a miracle.

After the first excitement had somewhat abated, human infirmity began to make itself felt. The wild pursuit of the game, the oppressive heat, the painful clambering up and along the ravine wall, and last but not least, the desperate hand to hand struggle, which followed this exertion, had exhausted our two friends so utterly and so completely, that they could no longer keep their feet, but flung themselves full length upon the grass.

Thus they lay, panting and striving to recover their breath, when, after the lapse of a few minutes, Grenits thought that in the bushes close by he caught a glimpse of the last little pig that had escaped the butchery. Without taking the trouble to rise, he slipped a cartridge into his breech-loader, put his weapon to his shoulder and fired in the direction where he had fancied he had seen the little beast disappear in the bushes. The echo of the report reverberated grandly through the ravine like a clap of thunder--on and on rolled the stately sound, gradually growing fainter and fainter, until at length it died away softly rumbling in the far distance.

But the sound had not quite passed away, when Grashuis, as if suddenly moved by some spring, raised himself upon his elbow:

"Did you hear that?" asked he, in a tone almost of alarm.

"Hear what?" said Grenits, "the report of my rifle--Of course I heard it."

"No, no," said the other, "I fancied I heard a human voice just now! Listen."

Yes, yonder in the far distance, but yet audibly and distinctly was heard the cry:

"Help! Help! Help!"

"By heaven!" cried Grenits, jumping up, "that's a woman's voice!"

"Help! help! toean!"

"A woman's voice," repeated Grashuis, "and crying out for help! Listen again."

"Help! help! toean!"

"I can see no other toeans besides ourselves. Our comrades are far away in the ravine--and the voice does not come from that direction at all," continued Grashuis.

"But," said Grenits, as he looked all around, "I can see nothing anywhere, Leendert!"

"No more can I," replied the other. "The reflection from the water on those rice-fields dazzles me painfully."

"Look yonder--I fancy I can see a hut--surely the cry must have come from there," said Grashuis.

Just then the cry was heard again, but much more faintly.

"Help! help! toean!"

"That is a woman's voice," repeated Grenits, "she is crying to us for help."

"But," said Grashuis, "what toeans can she be calling to?"

"What is that to me?" exclaimed Grenits. "Come along, some poor thing is calling for help. Come along, I don't feel a bit tired now."

Before they hastened away, the two friends cast a look at the ravine, out of which they had clambered a short time before--and there they caught sight of their comrades who were following them, and who were, in their turn, preparing to gain the summit of the rock.

Grenits thereupon fired off his gun, in order to attract their attention, and when he saw that he had succeeded, he called to them, at the top of his voice, while he stretched out his arm towards the west:

"There, there!" he cried. Then both hurried away.

"What did Theodoor say?" asked Verstork. "Could you make it out?"

"Not a word," replied van Nerekool, "he was much too far off; but something strange seems to have happened."

"Come let us hurry on," said Verstork.

The little party then began to toil up the steep. They were not, however, fired by the same enthusiasm which had inspired their friends, and thus they took thrice as long to accomplish the ascent. When they at length reached the summit, they could, in the distance, see Grenits and Grashuis running at the top of their speed between the rice-fields. The latter turned for an instant and waved his arm as if to urge his comrades to greater speed.

"Help! help! toean!" was heard again, but this time the cry was so faint as to be barely audible.

The two European gentlemen had, however, by this time, got much nearer to the hut.

"Come on, come on," shouted Grenits, hoping that he would urge his friends to greater speed.

"Are you sure," asked Grashuis, "that we are going in the right direction? It appears to me as if we were getting further away from the sound."

But they had no time for considering the matter, for, at that moment a female form was seen rushing from the hut and running to meet them.

"Help, toean, help!" she cried, as she fell down at their feet.

It was a Javanese girl, whom neither Grenits nor his friend recognised. With dishevelled hair and stained with blood, she rolled on the grass as she covered her face with both hands.

"Help, toean, help," she moaned.

Astounded by the strange and unexpected apparition, the two hunters stood looking at the poor girl before them. In their amazement they knew not what to do. Grenits, however, who could not bear to see a human being thus grovelling at his feet, took hold of the girl's arm and tried to raise her from the ground; but she shook off his hand.

"I am ashamed," she muttered, as she tried to cast the thick masses of hair over her bosom.

Just then a man, a Javanese, came darting out of the hut, and seeing the poor girl he ran up to her at once. With a rough grasp he laid hold of her arm, and strove to pull her up.

"Ah!" she exclaimed; then, as she recognised the fellow, she tore herself away from him with a look of the utmost terror.

"Help, toean, toean, help!" she begged, turning again to the two European gentlemen.

"Let go that woman's arm!" shouted Grenits, boiling with rage.

"What have you got to do with her?" asked Grashuis, who now recognised Singomengolo.

"She has been smuggling opium," replied Singo, and turning to the girl he hissed in a threatening tone, "Come along, will you, or else--"

"Take pity on me, gentlemen, take pity on me!" cried the wretched woman.

"Come along, will you!" shouted Singomengolo, furiously, as he tried by main force to drag her away.

"Let go that woman, I say--or else I'll smash your skull in!" shouted Grenits, raising the butt of his rifle.

Meanwhile Grashuis had seized Singomengolo round the waist and was attempting to drag him backward.

"I am a bandoelan," said the Javanese spy, somewhat haughtily; "I am a bandoelan; you gentlemen will be sorry for having threatened me and laid hands upon me." And, turning to the woman, he said again, "Come along!"

"Once again, let her go," cried Grenits, and this time in a tone of voice which plainly showed that he would stand no nonsense and was in deadly earnest. Indeed he was on the point of bringing down the butt of his gun crash upon the skull of the Chinaman, when he felt someone grasping his arm from behind and heard a voice whispering in his ear:

"Take care Theodoor, take care, it is a dangerous thing to meddle with those opium fellows."

Theodoor looked round, and, to his great surprise, he saw that it was Mokesuep who thus warned him.

"You, Muizenkop!" cried he. "Where have you sprung from?"

"I lost my way," was the reply. "But for heaven's sake keep cool or you will get yourself into trouble."

"What do I care," shouted Grenits; "let go my arm, I will soon settle the matter with that confounded opium spy!"

Singomengolo stood there before him with an indescribable look of ferocious malice on his evil countenance. He had laid his hand on the hilt of his kris and, proud and impetuous as he naturally was, he would undoubtedly have answered any act of violence with a stab of his knife, if indeed the first blow had not laid him senseless.

For a moment he stood glaring at the European with bold and glittering eye. Then suddenly he seemed to change his mind. He released the girl's arm, for, across the rice fields, he now saw another group advancing rapidly. In this group his quick sight had at once recognised not only the Controller of Banjoe Pahit but also the wedono of the district, and at the sight his sallow face grew pale.

"What's all this about?" asked Verstork as he came up to the spot.

"That wretched woman has been smuggling opium, Kandjeng toean," replied Singomengolo.

"That woman?"

"But--" cried van Nerekool, in amazement. "But, it is Dalima!"

"Dalima?"

"Yes Dalima, the baboe of the Resident."

"Good," said van Rheijn, with a laugh. "Our Resident keeps a baboe--a stock of feeding bottles also--no doubt!"

Van Nerekool turned crimson. He had not wished to say, "the baboe of the Resident's daughter."

Verstork removed one of the girl's hands from her face.

"Yes--it is indeed Dalima! And you say that she has smuggled opium?" he continued, turning to Singomengolo.

He made a sign to one of the wedono's servants, who at once gave the young girl a shawl, into which she hastily wrapped herself.

"Most assuredly," replied the bandoelan, "I have searched her myself."

"Indeed you have," rejoined Verstork, "and torn off her clothing in the process?"

"She would not allow--"

"And it is you then," continued Verstork, "who have so shamefully ill-treated her?"

"But what was I to do, Kandjeng toean? She offered resistance, and--look here, I found this upon her!"

As he spoke, Singomengolo held up to the Controller's view a small box. This little box was strangely similar to the one which, the evening before, he had delivered to Verstork. Indeed, if the latter had not with his own hand carefully sealed it and had not sent it off himself to Santjoemeh he could have sworn that this second box was the identical one he had seen before.

"Did you find that box in the girl's possession?" asked he, very sternly.

"Yes, I did," replied Singomengolo, unabashed.

"I have not smuggled opium!" cried poor Dalima, still cowering on the ground. "I have not smuggled anything; they dragged me into the hut and have ill-used me shamefully."

"But," asked Verstork, "what brought you here at all?"

"I was on my way to Kaligaweh. Last night some man came to the Residence, he came to tell me that my father was dying. Then I got leave from the njonja and from nonna Anna to go and see him."

"Leave from the njonja and from nonna Anna, you said?" asked Verstork.

"And from nonna Anna, yes, Kandjeng toean," said Dalima.

"Then those two ladies will be able to bear witness to that I suppose?" asked Verstork.

"Yes, Kandjeng toean."

"And I can bring witnesses to swear that this girl had opium in her possession," interrupted Singo.

"Witnesses!" said Verstork. "Who are they?"

Singomengolo cast a crafty look around him ere he replied. He saw Mokesuep quietly entering the little hut. That gentleman had taken advantage of the confusion and had quietly sneaked away, while he had a chance to do so unperceived. He had reasons of his own for so doing; but Singomengolo's lip curled with a disdainful smile.

"Just now," quoth he, "there was a Dutch gentleman here."

"A Dutch gentleman!" echoed Verstork, now quite losing his temper. "A Dutch gentleman! take care what you are saying. Are you trying to make a fool of me? I won't stand such impudence, do you hear!"

"Muizenkop was here just now," remarked Grenits interrupting him.

"Muizenkop? why I have seen nothing of him all the morning!"

"I don't know how it is," replied Grenits, "he told me something about losing his way."

"But, what has become of him?" asked the Controller.

"That I don't know--anyhow, he was standing here a minute ago."

"But," continued Verstork speaking to Singomengolo. "You said two witnesses--who is the other?"

"Lim Ho," was the fellow's insolent reply.

"Lim Ho!" exclaimed van Nerekool in amazement.

"And Dalima in that condition! Now I understand all about it!"

"Lim Ho has terribly ill-used me," sobbed the poor girl "and--" but she could not utter another word.

"And?" persisted Verstork.

"He and that man there held me fast."

"You villainous brute!" shouted van Nerekool as he shook his clenched fist in the wretch's face.

"She has smuggled opium," replied the spy without flinching. "She has smuggled opium, and I found it upon her--that is all. The gentlemen must try not to lose their tempers. The girl is simply telling a parcel of lies."

"I do not lie," cried Dalima, "I have not smuggled--my condition shows plainly enough how they have treated me."

At a gesture from the controller a couple of oppassers lifted up the young girl from the ground. Van Nerekool assisted them, and called for another covering to wrap around her.

Then turning to the Controller he said, "A foul outrage has been committed here--the way that poor girl has been treated is simply infamous!"

Having thus for the moment taken care of Dalima, the company entered the hut.

There they found Mokesuep smoking a friendly cigar with Lim Ho. The latter's ear was bandaged.

"So," said Verstork to Mokesuep without bestowing so much as a look upon the Chinaman. "So you're here!"

"Yes," was the reply, "I am here, I lost my way this morning in the ravine and have been wandering about until I came upon this hut. I then sought shelter from the burning sun. Bah, how hot it is in those open fields!"

All this was said with the greatest self-possession. At the last sentence the wretch actually puffed as if he had really been suffering much from the heat.

"You have been here some time then?" asked Verstork.

"Well yes," was the reply, "about half an hour I should say, if you call that some time."

"You will be called upon to bear witness," said the controller.

"Indeed--bear witness to what?"

"A dreadful outrage has been committed on that girl," continued Verstork.

"An outrage?" asked Mokesuep as if much astonished. "I know nothing at all about it."

"Nothing whatever has taken place here," remarked Singomengolo speaking in Malay; for though he would not use it yet he understood the Dutch language perfectly. "Nothing at all has taken place here," he repeated, "except the discovery of smuggled opium. Is that true or not, babah?" The Chinaman who had risen from his seat when the European gentlemen entered the hut, exchanged looks with Mokesuep, but answered at once, "Nothing else, Kandjeng toean."

"I am not talking to you," said Verstork to the Chinaman, and then turning to Mokesuep he continued.

"That girl, the baboe of the Resident at Santjoemeh, accuses both these men of having perpetrated a terrible crime."

Mokesuep, who did not know Dalima, stood confounded when he learned who she was. The baboe of the Resident! What if that high and mighty one were to take up the cause of his servant? Indeed he did not know what to say or what to do.

"Did you hear my words?" asked the Controller very sternly and very impatiently.

The wretch caught a significant glance of Lim Ho who stood there audaciously puffing at his cigar.

"I have seen nothing whatever of it, Controller," he replied.

"But I," interrupted Singomengolo in a taunting tone of voice, "I accuse that baboe of having smuggled opium--I found it in her possession--the babah and the Dutch gentleman can bear witness to that."

"Is that true?" asked Verstork.

The Chinaman did not answer at once, vile and utterly depraved though he was, yet even he hesitated. He could not quite make up his mind utterly to destroy the poor girl whom he had so deeply injured. But Singomengolo gave him a significant look and made him a sign which was almost imperceptible.

"Yes," said Lim Ho at length, "that is perfectly true."

"Is that true?" said Verstork turning to Mokesuep.

"Yes--it is true," replied the latter with the utmost effrontery.

"Did you actually see the bandoelan find this box in the girl's possession?"

"Yes," replied the wretch.

At this word Dalima fell into a dead swoon. The other men present at the scene could not repress gestures of contempt and loathing, for all were firmly convinced of the poor girl's innocence and of the perjured scoundrel's infamy.

"You damned wretch!" shouted Theodoor Grenits beside himself with fury and utterly unable any longer to restrain himself.

A contemptuous smile, accompanied with a still more contemptuous gesture, was Mokesuep's only reply.

That was too much for Grenits. "There! there!" he shouted livid with rage, "there, there! take that." And at the words he dealt the infamous scoundrel two swinging blows in the face.

"Mr. Grenits! Mr. Grenits," cried Verstork in a dignified manner, "Do pray control yourself, do not make my official duty more difficult to perform than it already is."

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XX. A DINNER-PARTY

A few hours later our sportsmen were seated at table in the pandoppo of the Controller's house at Banjoe Pahit. Fritz Mokesuep, however, we need hardly say, was not of the party. William Verstork was a man who, as a rule, could put up with a good deal; but on this occasion he had not cared to conceal the aversion with which that individual inspired him.

As soon as poor Dalima had been properly attended to, and under escort of a policeman, had been sent off in a tandoe as a prisoner to Santjoemeh, the Controller had told Mokesuep, in pretty plain language, that, after what had taken place between him and Grenits, his company could very well be dispensed with.

"It seems to me," had been Mokesuep's reply, "that the person who inflicted the insult is the one that ought to stand aside."

"Such, no doubt would, under ordinary circumstances, have been my opinion also," returned Verstork, with icy coolness; "but before I can consent to receive you as my guest, you will have to explain to me, in a satisfactory way, how you came to be in this hut, so far from the hunting-ground, and just at the time when the young girl was so shamefully ill-used."

"She has not been--" interrupted Mokesuep.

"Now, pray do not mistake me," resumed Verstork, "I said ill-used, at the present moment I make use of no stronger expression. We found her here half-naked and bleeding, and she was calling upon us for help. She had, therefore, evidently been ill-treated, at present I say nothing more than that. She suffered this ill-treatment in your presence--in your presence, who pretend to be a gentleman; and I repeat what I said just now, you will have to give me satisfactory proof that it was not in your power to assist or defend this poor young girl before I will consent to receive you under my roof."

"But, Mr. Verstork--!"

"If you can clear yourself of the suspicion which, perhaps very unjustly, at present rests upon you, I can assure you that nothing will give me greater pleasure than to hold out my hand to you, indeed you will find me the first to do so, unless my friend Grenits should forestall me."

"In that case," said Grenits, "Mr. Mokesuep will find me perfectly prepared to give him any satisfaction he may require."

"Satisfaction!" sneered Mokesuep, "never you mind about that, I know well enough how to get satisfaction!"

"You refuse then," continued Verstork coldly, "to furnish me with the explanations I require?"

"I owe you no explanations whatever, Mr. Verstork," cried Mokesuep, "I intend to reserve my explanations for the Resident's ear."

"Very well, sir, just as you please," replied Verstork. "In that case I have nothing further to say to you," and with a stiff, formal bow he added: "Pray let me not detain you any longer."

Mokesuep ground his teeth with rage at this direct dismissal; he flung his rifle over his shoulder, and, accompanied by Lim Ho and Singomengolo, who had stood by as silent spectators of the scene, without understanding much of what was going on, he hurried away in the direction of Santjoemeh.

As he went he cried, "You shall pay for this, Mr. Verstork. I shall have my revenge!"

It was a terrible threat, no doubt; but it did not take away the appetite of our friends; and so, as we have said before, a few hours after found them seated at the table in the pandoppo of the Controller at Banjoe Pahit.

The pandoppo of the Controller's house could not, in size or extent, be compared with the splendid gallery in the stately residential mansion at Santjoemeh. But, for that very reason, it was more homely and more comfortable. It lacked the vast empty spaces between the columns, reminding one of a big market-hall, and it had not the lofty roof which made one think of a cathedral. It was, in fact, much more like a cosy sitting-room, and to this air of homely comfort, the tasteful manner in which Verstork had furnished it, contributed not a little. Indeed, this pandoppo was Verstork's ordinary sitting-room, and a very pleasant retreat it was. The big windows, all of them furnished with venetian blinds, gave free access to the breeze, while, on the sunny side, they could be closed so as to exclude the heat; and thus within that gallery it was always deliciously cool. The entire house moreover was surrounded by trees encircling it as with a crown of verdure, and their pleasant shade tempered the glaring light of the tropical day.

There, William Verstork used to sit whenever his presence was not required in his office. There, at sunrise, he sipped his early cup of coffee, there he breakfasted and used to dine. There again he was wont to enjoy his papers and periodicals as in the afternoon he took a cup of tea, and used to dream away the evenings musing within himself, and often wondering whether, in such a place, it was well for a man to be alone.

At any time of the day this pandoppo was a pleasant retreat, and specially gay and comfortable did it look now when the host had gathered his friends around his table.

The very table itself contributed to the gaiety and brightness of the scene.

On that board were displayed the inevitable bowls of rice, cooked by steaming in conical baskets of bamboo, every grain snow-white, distinct and separate. And with this standing dish of rice were served up in small saucers, an endless variety of soups, vegetables, sauces, pickles, and condiments of all kinds. There were chicken-broth, fish-soup, and other thicker kinds of soup. Then a variety of dishes flavoured with Spanish pepper, among which devilled shrimps, devilled eggs, the celebrated little red-fish of Macassar, the bean of the Paskia speciosa and the famous "pirate pepper," so called no doubt on account of its extreme pungency. The more substantial dishes consisted of meat and fish, such as jerked beef, smoked venison, roast or boiled joints, boiled and braised fowl, and a delicious fresh water fish, the Olfromeus Olfax. These and other dishes, too numerous to mention, are generally served up at a complete and well appointed dinner--or as they call it in Java--rice table.

But the object which specially attracted the attention of our Luculluses as they entered the pandoppo, and which made them smack their lips in anticipation of a rare feast, was a sucking pig which stood conspicuous in the centre of the table in a capacious dish. It was roasted whole, was standing upright on its four legs, and had a lemon in its snout. It was a product of the day's hunting, one of the first victims, in fact, which had fallen, and had at once been taken home by one of Verstork's servants to play a prominent part in the entertainment.

Every one of the guests did full justice to the good fare, and all proved themselves to be right valiant trenchermen; but though the grinders were kept busily at work, and though the palates fully appreciated the highly flavoured and succulent dishes, yet the tongues were by no means allowed to remain idle, nor was the conversation suffered to flag around the hospitable board. The reader may well believe there was plenty to talk about.

"That confounded Muizenkop!" quoth Theodoor Grenits, "why, the fellow very nearly made me lose my temper."

"Come, come, don't mention him," replied van Rheijn, "his very name would take away one's appetite."

"By Jove," cried August van Beneden, "that sucking pig is a most delicious morsel."

"Very nice, indeed," remarked van Rheijn. "But, how many of those chaps have we bowled over I wonder?"

"That I cannot tell you," said Verstork.

"But," resumed van Beneden, "we ought to know the number in order that we may be able to judge in how far our expedition may be called successful. How shall we find out?"

"Patience, August, patience," said Verstork with a smile.

"All right, William," continued van Beneden, "you know I have no great stock of that commodity. I wonder how many of those beasts we have knocked over. I saw a good number of them sprawling about."

"The wedono will be here presently with his report," replied Verstork.

"The wedono! Yes, he has disappeared--where can he have got to?"

"Well," said Verstork, "I ordered him and the two loerahs to make a careful search in the Djoerang Pringapoes. He will no doubt soon be here to tell us the result of our day's work."

The words were scarcely spoken, before one of the oppassers came in to announce the arrival of the dessa-chief.

"Show him in!" cried Verstork.

"Well, Wedono," he continued with a smile, "I see you come to share our rice-table, that is very kind of you, I am glad to see you."

The Javanese chief, however, had recoiled in terror. Had the conscientious Mohammedan been a Roman Catholic he would most assuredly have crossed himself. As it was he merely muttered in the direst confusion, "Excuse me, Kandjeng toean! You know that we are not allowed to eat pork."

"But, you can take something else, Wedono--there is beef on the table and fowl and duck and fish--anything you like in fact."

"Thank you, Kandjeng toean, thank you; but all these things have been cooked in the same kitchen as the sucking pig, and, you know our religion forbids us--"

"I am sorry for it, Wedono," replied Verstork.

"I came here, Kandjeng toean," continued the chief, "to give you my report of the day's hunting."

"Very well, Wedono!"

"Seventeen pigs great and small have been killed. The Chinamen at Kaligaweh and at Banjoe Pahit have bought the carcases from the village people and are now busy carting them away."

"Ah, Wedono, those Chinamen know what is good," said Verstork.

"I suppose so, Kandjeng toean," replied the dessa-chief with a forced smile.

"That is a pretty good number I think--is it not, Wedono?" remarked van Rheijn. "Do you think," he continued, "that we have pretty well exterminated them?"

"Pretty nearly," answered the wedono. "A number of our people have gone after the pigs that broke away and have dispatched several of them. There are but a very few left and they have sought for refuge in the high mountain land, so that I do not think that we shall be troubled any more by that mischievous brood."

"Well then, my friends," cried Verstork elated at the success of his expedition, "we may say that we have done a good morning's work. Here's good luck to Banjoe Pahit and the dessa-folk!"

All the guests sprang to their feet and raised their glasses. Van Rheijn thrust a tumbler of beer into the wedono's hand--and with a joyous "hip, hip, hip, hurrah!" a toast was drunk to the inhabitants of the district who had been delivered from their troublesome visitors.

"Has the Kandjeng toean any further orders for me?" asked the wedono. "If not I will beg leave to retire."

"Yes, Wedono--there is something else. In the entrance of the Djoerang Pringapoes there lies a very big old boar, you will know him by his long tusks--I very much wish to have the head."

"Excellent, excellent," exclaimed van Beneden, "Une hure de sanglier à la sauce piquante, that will be a rare treat!"

"Hush, August!" said Verstork and, turning again to the wedono he continued, "Then further, I want you at once to open the inquiry in the matter of Dalima."

"Certainly, Kandjeng toean."

"And come to me presently--I must have some talk with you about that affair."

"Very good, Kandjeng toean."

"Presently," cried van Beneden, "presently why--" and then he struck up

"We won't go home till morning ... Till daylight doth appear."

The entire company joined in the well-known old tune. When the noise had somewhat subsided, Verstork continued;

"Duty, my friends, before pleasure. You will presently go and have your afternoon nap, then you will take a bath. I shall pursue this inquiry with the help of the wedono. This evening it is my intention to return to Santjoemeh with you; for the first thing to-morrow morning I must have an interview with the Resident. You have understood me, Wedono, have you not?"

"Yes, Kandjeng toean."

"Very good then, I will not detain you."

With a courtly bow, the dessa-chief took leave of the company and retired.

The dinner went on; but the mention of Dalima had somewhat dashed the high spirits of the guests. The recollection of the sad event of the morning seemed to cast a chill over them all and to sober down even the merriest of the party.

"Poor little Dalima!" sighed Grashuis, after a few moments' silence during which he had been discussing a duck's wing, "Poor little Dalima! could she be guilty of smuggling opium?"

"Get along with you," cried van Beneden. "Does that pretty little thing look like a smuggler?"

"Take care, August," said van Rheijn with a laugh, "a lawyer ought not to allow himself to be influenced by outward appearance. Am I not right, Charles?"

Van Nerekool was not there and then ready with an answer to this appeal; he was in fact busily employed in removing the bones from a splendid slice of fish. But after a moment's pause he said:

"Certainly not--yet, for all that I also am firmly persuaded of the girl's innocence."

"Of course, of course--the baboe of nonna Anna, eh Charles--cela va sans dire?"

"But," remarked van Rheijn, "the thing that puzzles me is that the opium was found upon her."

"Do you believe that?" asked another.

"Well I don't know what to say, there is Muizenkop's testimony."

"What! would you take that scoundrel's word?"

"Aye, aye," said Verstork very seriously, "the whole business looks ugly enough."

"As far as I can see," said Grashuis, "there is but one hope left, and that is that nonna Anna may have influence enough with her father to get the affair hushed up."

A bitter smile curled van Nerekool's lip, but he uttered not a word.

"Now if Lim Ho, the son of the opium farmer, were not mixed up in the matter," said Verstork musingly, "why then you might have some reason for that hope--yes--then I think things might be squared; but now--"

"But," exclaimed van Beneden interrupting his friend, "can you for a moment suspect that the judicial power--?"

"My dear friend--my good August," replied Verstork, "a highly placed judicial functionary here in Dutch India once spoke these words: 'The opium trade lies upon this country as a heavy curse--it has impressed its stamp upon everything, alas, even upon our courts of justice.' I think I am right, Charles?"

Van Nerekool nodded affirmatively.

"Well," said van Rheijn, "all that is very sad, a very sad state of things indeed; but the worst of it is that the use of opium makes opium-farming a necessary evil."

"What nonsense you do talk!" cried Grenits impatiently.

"But Theodoor!"

"But Edward!"--

"If the abuse of opium did not exist, then surely there would at once be an end of opium-farming. You will allow that I think?"

"Oh yes," replied Grenits, "that sounds very plausible no doubt; but now supposing I were to retort by saying if there were no opium-monopoly then the abuse of the drug would never have assumed its present proportions? That does not perhaps sound so pleasant; but it is a statement which is more easily verified."

"Oh yes, yes, we heard all about that last night; unfortunately however, the proof was not forthcoming."

"Well," said Grenits, "what does history say?"

"History," replied the other, "what you call history is neither more nor less than the personal opinion and utterance of the historian. One man contends that Europeans brought opium into the country, and another holds a different view--so much for history."

"But Edward, I hope you do not distrust the Council of India?"

"Well what does the Council say, Theodoor?"

"If my memory serves me, it says this, or words to this effect: 'The opium monopoly has always been most anxiously watched by the Government as one of the most important sources of public revenue, and every means of enhancing the productiveness of that source of income has been most eagerly adopted.'"

"Aye, aye," returned van Rheijn; "but is all this true?"

"Why," said Grenits, "I hope, Edward, you do not doubt my word?"

"Not in the least, my dear fellow, not in the least. I am quite ready to admit that your quotation is accurate; but was the Council properly informed when it gave that opinion?"

"Well," replied Grenits, "if you go on like that, then we shall not be able to trust anybody or anything. Those people are paid, and most handsomely paid, to get the best and most trustworthy information. But independently altogether of the Council's opinion, in which you seem to have but little faith, tell me, does not the constantly rising revenue from the farming of opium afford proof absolute of the truth of the Council's word? Every successive year the estimate is higher and higher."

"I know that," said van Rheijn, "but estimate and actual produce are widely different things."

"True enough, they are sometimes widely different; but in this particular case they are not. Heaven and earth are moved to reach the figure at which the minister has estimated the revenue, and means the most unfair, even the most criminal, are employed in order, if possible, to surpass the sum at which the revenue has been placed. How many a Netherland's Lion has been given away because, in this district or in that, the produce of the opium contract has exceeded the figure at which the minister put it! How proudly must the 'Virtus Nobilitat' thus earned glitter upon the breast of its possessor!"

"But I want to know," remarked August van Beneden, "is the use of opium really as injurious to the body as men say it is? We saw with our own eyes last night that as far as morality is concerned it has not much to recommend it; but how about its influence upon the material body? We sometimes hear the word poisoning used; that very term indeed was made use of last night, but it seems to me that it is a system of poisoning under which a man may attain to a very good old age, just as a man may grow old who drinks a glass or two of grog."

"Listen to me," said Verstork in a most serious tone. "We are sitting here together, all, I hope, honest trustworthy men I can therefore speak my mind freely and fearlessly before you, and I may without reserve give you the conclusion to which a long and richly varied experience has led me on the subject of opium.

"The habitual use of opium, even in comparatively moderate doses, invariably leads to vitiation of the blood and constriction of the vessels. This again gives rise to an asthmatic condition and to a permanent and wasting and almost always incurable dysentery. These are accompanied by the most distressing symptoms and intolerable suffering. Upon the opium smoker, moreover, medicines begin gradually to lose their effect, excepting the narcotic poisons in ever increasing quantities. Hence the sufferer is driven to seek relief in augmented doses of the poison, and if he cannot obtain these, his condition becomes utterly unbearable. Yet to this suffering he is doomed, unless he can pass from one fit of intoxication to the other. Opium smoking is the only thing to alleviate the miseries of the collapse which follows an opium debauch, and but few can afford the continual drain of so expensive a remedy. Where a sufficient quantity of good wholesome food is taken, these lamentable results may be slow in showing themselves; and a generous and strengthening diet has preserved many a man, for an entire lifetime, from the most serious consequences of his pernicious habit. But even in these cases, the state of the blood and the general condition of health are so bad, that trifling ailments, such as an ordinary boil or a slight wound, assume a most malignant character and often lead to fatal results; and who can venture to say how many diseases, which depend upon cachexia and which are so common in this country, are caused, or, at all events, are greatly aggravated by the habitual use of opium?

"I spoke just now of a sufficient quantity of nutritive food; but we know too well--and the Government also knows it--that but very few of the natives can afford a supply of food which can be called either sufficient or nutritious. It is well known how exceedingly meagre the diet of the Javanese is, even among those who are in tolerably good circumstances; and it is well known also that, even when he can afford it, he very seldom makes use of food which is really strengthening. And that diet, be it more or less generous, must of necessity become more and more meagre when every day a considerable, and ever more considerable portion of the wages is squandered in the purchase of opium. Thus the enjoyment itself tends to make impossible the only condition under which it might be indulged in with anything like impunity.

"But, you will doubtless object--in such cases lack of money must compel these people to limit themselves to a very moderate consumption, and they will thus be preserved from the fatal effects of excessive indulgence. Such, however, is not always the case. There are men, and their number is by no means small, who in the days of their prosperity have gradually accustomed themselves to a very considerable consumption of the drug; and who, when all their worldly possessions have vanished in clouds of intoxicating smoke, have been compelled either to satisfy themselves with diminished doses of opium or else to abstain from smoking altogether. It is difficult to fathom the hopeless misery of such poor creatures. Further, experience has proved, that very many whose daily consumption is strictly moderate, yet at forty years of age and upwards suffer frightfully from the ill effects of opium, especially of the most painful and incurable dysentery. I myself have at Berbek, at Trengalek, at Santjoemeh, here at Banjoe Pahit and elsewhere, cured a great number of such sufferers with a certain remedy, and thus I have had ample opportunity to make myself personally acquainted with the facts.

"Now, if with these unfortunate creatures we compare the thousands who, at home, drink their couple of glasses of beer or of spirits, then it will appear at a glance how much more pernicious is the use of opium than the use of alcohol. The former indeed, is infinitely more stupefying and deadening, and thus, very much more rapidly than alcohol, it destroys the appetite; so that, even when plenty of wholesome food is at hand, it either cannot be taken at all or else loses much of its nutritive value. Confirmed opium smokers have repeatedly told me that, in consequence of their pernicious habit, they could eat only a few pinches of rice a day, whereas, when, by the help of a remedy with which I supplied them, they were able gradually to diminish their daily dose of opium, they could take ten times the amount of nourishment.

"Then comes another point, and that is the extreme fascination and seductiveness of opium, which causes the most pleasurable bodily sensations, which fills the mind with glorious dreams, which, for a while, removes all pain and suffering, while it, at the same time, deadens much more effectually than strong drink, the mental faculties, in this depressed race already sufficiently dormant, and thus the use of opium holds its victim much more securely bound in the fetters of his fatal passion, than the moderate use of alcohol enslaves anyone at home.

"Having thus, by degrees, come to the influence of opium upon the mind and the character, I must certainly not omit to draw your attention to the selfishness and self-indulgence which it develops in the smoker; to the ever-growing indifference to all his surroundings, even to his own wife and children; to the listless indolence and aversion to work, to care, to trouble in fact of any kind, which at length, by night or day, allows him to think of nothing but of his master-passion and all its concomitant cravings, to the gratification of which everything must be sacrificed, and everybody must become subservient. A gin drinker, for the indulgence in his ignoble passion, demands no other service than that now and then someone is sent out to fetch him his dram; but the opium smoker, if he can afford the luxury of attendance at all, monopolises the services of his entire household. One must work hard to earn the means of satisfying his expensive craving, another must go and purchase his opium, a third must stand by in readiness to fill his pipe, a fourth must prepare his coffee and the other refreshments he requires. It is true, no doubt, that he is not so violent and not so noisy in his debauch as one who is under the influence of liquor; but, when the effects of the narcotic begin to wear off and his pains and ailments again begin to make themselves felt, then, unless the whole family is at his beck and call and ready once more to minister to his passion, he fills the house with invectives and threatening--then he utters moanings and lamentations most pitiful and heartrending. If to this we add the bodily and mental debility which the opium slave transmits as a legacy to his wretched offspring, though the majority of smokers cease at an early age to have children at all, then we cannot help wondering what kind of miserable stunted race will be the second or third generation from the present one.

"And then," continued Verstork, after a pause, "and then the poverty and destitution which the use of opium entails! What an amount of prosperity and welfare has already been,--and is daily being--swallowed up by the use of that baneful drug! Among the lower classes, an opium smoker, even though he smokes in strict moderation, very soon arrives at the point when he must devote his entire earnings to the purchase of the drug, while at the same time his craving for refreshing and stimulating dainties must likewise be satisfied. The families are legion in which the wife, assisted perhaps by one or two of her children, is the only breadwinner. Should she happen to be in delicate health, should she be disabled by sickness or childbed, why then the misery of such a household is unfathomable. And, believe me, such cases of extreme misery are much more frequent out here than similar cases of destitution in Europe occasioned by the abuse of drink.

"Now all these powers, bodily, mental, and moral; and all that prosperity, which at present opium saps and destroys, might be devoted to industry and agriculture. If such use were made of them, how much greater would be both production and consumption, and how much more considerable would be the profit to the exchequer--a profit earned in a fair and legitimate way--than any revenue which the accursed system of opium farming can produce! Thousands upon thousands of the natives here have neither the energy, nor the means, nor the inclination to work or to learn how they may profitably cultivate their gardens and fields, neither do they care to progress in any branch of industry whatever; because they have offered up--and are continually offering--all they possess in the world to opium. But, are not industry and agriculture the very life-blood of a State? Yet here, the state itself does all it possibly can to poison that life-blood, and thus to bring about its own destruction."

William Verstork here paused for awhile, after so long an oration, he felt the necessity of quenching his thirst with a glass of beer. All his guests sat silently waiting for what he might further have to say. His words had evidently made a very deep impression upon his hearers, for the language to which they had listened was the simple and unvarnished tale of actual experience; and, however young and heedless some of them might be, yet the speech of their friend had awakened their interest, and had gone straight to their hearts. At length, after having drawn a long breath, the Controller went on to say:

"You know, my friends, that my official career has not been passed entirely at Santjoemeh. My probationary time I spent in the capital of the Kediri residence. As second-class controller I was some time at Berbek and at Trenggalek. I know, therefore, from personal experience how matters stand in those residencies also. Now listen to me. Kediri has a population of about 700,000 souls--the vast majority of them very poor people. In that place the opium contract produces eighteen hundred thousand guilders. If to that sum we add the price paid for the drug delivered to the farmer, and the profits which he makes on the sale then, I think, we shall be well within the mark if we put down two and a half millions of guilders as the sum which those poor people, of their own free will, pay annually to purchase a few hours a day of enjoyment and oblivion. I say nothing now about the cost of smuggled opium; the amount paid for it is not known, and every one must, therefore, form his own opinion of that. How is it possible for a population so poor to find so large a sum of money, in addition, mind you, to all their other burdens, such as compulsory labour, salt-tax, rent, licenses, import duties, &c.? That is a mystery to me--but then you should see what kind of a life is that of a poor Javanese family.

"Their house is generally very small, built of bamboo and covered with straw. Furniture they have none whatever; a mat spread out on a bamboo bench, and a coarse pillow is what they sleep on. They cook their food on the ground in pots and pans of the commonest earthenware; they eat it on pisang leaves with their fingers; they drink water out of an earthenware pitcher. They seldom, we may say never, wash their clothes which, such as they are, they continue to wear until they fall in rags from their bodies. The children run about naked, and grow up in the mud among the bullocks. At five o'clock in the morning they rise and go to work so as to be present in time for roll-call at six. They work for their masters, in the rice-fields, at road-making, in the coffee plantations, or in the osier-beds. Should a man get a day off, he may go and work on his own account, and then he can earn about 40 or 50 cents (10 pence) for ten hours' labour. When they get home in the evening, they have their morsel of food and fully half the day's earning is spent on opium. At eight o'clock all are fast asleep, and up to eight o'clock the only lamp they have in the hut is a saucer with a cotton wick in a little stinking oil. Such is the faithful picture of the daily life of a Javanese opium smoker. Nothing--absolutely nothing to make the slightest break in this weary monotony. Nothing but work, hard work; mostly for insufficient wages, very frequently compulsory labour for no wages at all. And then, behind their backs to be called a pack of lazy scoundrels! That is a little too bad. Tell me, have we Dutch any feeling at all for our fellow-creatures? Is it not at length high time that all that compulsory and unpaid labour should be done away with and that the opium-curse should be banished from the land? Every right-minded Dutchman ought to do his best according to the utmost of his power to attain that end, because every Dutchman is personally and individually responsible for so frightful a state of things, and every Dutchman ought to be heartily ashamed of himself while the poor patient Javanese are being so shamefully imposed upon. All that the poor native can earn either by his work for his masters or in his own free time, he must, in one shape or other, offer up to that insatiable Moloch, the public treasury. There is but one thing left for him, and that is a little rice; and of that he has not enough to last him for the whole year."

"Yes," observed Grenits, when Verstork had finished speaking, "yes, William, you are perfectly right, and that is the reason why he seeks for consolation and temporary oblivion in the opium den, just as in Holland a poor man in similar circumstances flies for relief to the bottle. Thus cause and effect act and react upon one another; misery suggests opium or drink, and drink and opium in their turn engender misery. It requires a very powerful effort of the will to shake off either bad habit, and drink and opium are the very things which deprive a man of whatever power of will he may have. Therefore it is perfectly hopeless to expect the people to take the initiative in any such reforms as Verstork has mentioned; the evil keeps on spreading and is daily striking deeper roots. The ruling power ought to exercise its authority and drag these poor degraded people out of the slough of despond in which so many of them are wallowing. It ought to do this, I say, regardless of cost and trouble; and regardless also of the pain it may for the moment inflict. Every right-minded citizen ought, according as he is able, to assist the government in that arduous task, and whoever would, for selfish motives, strive to retard or to frustrate this plan of rescue ought at once to be put aside and rendered harmless. If Holland and Dutch India cannot continue to exist, or to speak more correctly, cannot continue to pay their way without screwing a revenue out of such immoral sources as abuse of opium, abuse of drink and unpaid compulsory labour--why then for honour of the country it were better that it should do like the man who is no longer able to maintain, by honest means, a separate home of his own, and go and live as a boarder in the house of another."

For a few moments all sat silent. They all felt the truth, the undeniable truth of Theodoor's words, though his concluding sentence had most deeply wounded their patriotic pride. At length van Beneden started up from his seat, and going up to Verstork he took his hand and pressed it cordially.

"I thank you," said he in a tone of deep emotion, "I thank you heartily for the insight you have given me into the fatal effects of opium. I am but a young lawyer and have, as yet, had no opportunity of appearing as counsel in any case connected with the traffic. I have read much about the abuse of the drug, and I learned much last night under the Wariengien tree on the green at Kaligaweh; but your manly and vigorous words have awakened my conscience, and here, in the presence of you all, I solemnly promise that I will, on the very first opportunity that may present itself, make the very best use I can of what your experience has taught me."

"Hurrah!" cried Leendert Grashuis. "William, your excellent speech has thus had not only a practical, but it will have an immediate effect. Aye, my friends, I say an immediate effect; for I have a proposition to make to you--"

"Out with it!" they cried, "let us hear it."

"Yesterday, we all but witnessed the Amokh which took place at Kaligaweh; this morning we were within a few minutes of witnessing another and no less terrible crime. It is not my intention to analyse the feelings to which these scenes have given rise in our hearts--the father a manslayer, and the daughter dishonoured. Both these events, however, are intimately and immediately connected with the infamous system of opium-farming. We have heard the testimony of our superior officer. In the name of all assembled here, I thank him for his noble sentiments; and now my friends let us not be behind him in generosity. Dalima and her father must have an advocate in the trial which awaits them, and that advocate we have found. Both the accused parties will, in our friend August van Beneden, find a defender who will take up their cause with zeal and ability. Methinks, I can hear his maiden speech--it will be a splendid one."

"Thank you, Leendert," said van Beneden with much emotion, "I can assure my friends that they have not misjudged me."

"Aye, aye," continued Grashuis, "I know that well; but we all of us intend to participate in the good work, do we not?"

"By all means!" was the general cry.

"Well then, listen to me, for now I come to the proposal I have to make. In this case there can be no question of offering our friend van Beneden any honorarium--that would deprive his labour of love of its chief merit. But in carrying on this defence many expenses will necessarily be incurred and many fees will have to be paid in advance. We all know that Dame Justice is in India an expensive--a most expensive hussy. Well then, let us all join hands and undertake to find the funds that may be required--then August will be able to carry on both cases in the most effectual and vigorous manner."

"Agreed, agreed!" they all exclaimed. "Now, August, do your best!"

"Now that we have arranged that business," resumed Grenits, "I have a question to put to our host."

"By all means, Theodoor," said Verstork, "what is it?"

"I am a merchant," said Grenits, "and as such, I am bound to be very inquisitive. In trade I not only need all the information I can obtain about any article of commerce; but I find a little chemistry uncommonly useful--"

"Come to the point," cried several of the guests; "we don't want any lectures on chemistry and commerce!"

But Grenits, without paying any heed to the interruption, went on: "Just now in your speech you made mention of a certain remedy which I think you said you found useful in curing some unhappy slaves to opium. Is that, may I ask, a secret remedy?"

"A secret remedy?" asked Verstork, with a laugh. "What do you mean--do you take me for a quack-doctor?"

"Not by any means," replied Grenits. "Since this remedy then is not a secret one, will you tell me what it is?"

"With pleasure," said Verstork; "they are pills which were given me by a missionary. They are composed of opium and radix rhei or rhubarb, in the following proportions: Twelve of these pills contain three grains of opium and twelve grains of rhubarb. They are to be administered every five days; the first time twelve have to be taken, the next time nine, the third time six, but it is very seldom indeed that the third dose is required, for by that time the patients are generally cured."

"And," persisted Grenits, "can you actually vouch for their efficacy?"

"To be sure I can," replied Verstork. "In my study you will find a kind of trophy consisting of a dozen bedoedans or opium-pipes which the smokers have deposited with me with the solemn promise that they would never touch the pipe again. The missionary who gave me the pills can speak most positively of upwards of seventy cures."

"Now," asked Grenits, "you will not be offended if I give you a bit of advice in your own interest and in the interest also of the missionary?"

"Certainly not," said Verstork, "let us hear it, by all means."

"Well, my advice is this: keep that prescription strictly to yourself and don't say a word about it to anybody. The colonial secretary who has but one object in view, and that is, to raise the opium revenue as much as possible, might look upon your remedy as an attack made upon the golden calf; and missionaries have before this been impeded in their Gospel work, and men have been expelled from the colonies, and official functionaries have been suspended or pensioned off for the commission of much more venial offences than bringing such pills as yours to the opium-smoker."

Verstork turned slightly pale as he heard his friend's well-meant advice. For a single moment his thoughts flew to those dear ones who so greatly needed his assistance and support. Did he repent of having thus honestly spoken his mind? Who can say!--He put his hand to his forehead as if to wipe away some unpleasant reflection. "Oh," said he, "it is not quite so bad as that, I hope."

"Perhaps not," said Grenits, with a smile, "but your pills will not earn you the Netherlands' Lion."

"That may be," said the Controller, "however, Fais ce que dois, advienne que pourra, that is my motto. For all that I shall not give the poor souls one pill the less."

Then, allowing his eye to wander over the table which by this time had been pretty well cleared, for our friends had sat down to dinner as hungry as hunters, he continued--

"My friends, our dinner is over. After yesterday's jaunt and this morning's exertion, and after the very short rest we had last night, you must all need repose. My servants will show you to your rooms. I am going to work and, as I told you just now, this evening I am off with you to Santjoemeh. I wish you all a pleasant siesta."

A few minutes later the pandoppo was deserted and towards evening the five friends were galloping along the road to the capital.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

XXI. IN THE RESIDENT'S OFFICE

Verstork was much too late.

After the scene in the hut near the Djoerang Pringapoes, he ought at once to have jumped into the saddle and there and then have galloped off to Santjoemeh; thus he might possibly have succeeded in warding off the storm that was gathering over his head. As it was, he had allowed another to forestall him. It was not long before he found that out.

"So!--that is your report of what has taken place!" said van Gulpendam, in the most offensive and sneering tone imaginable, when the Controller at length, after having long been kept waiting and after having times out of number paced up and down the front-gallery, had been admitted into the presence of his chief.

"So--that is your report is it? It seems to me you have taken your time about it! Yesterday, before noon, the information had already reached me. A pleasant dinner time for me when such things are occurring in my residency. But the gentlemen, it seems, were amusing themselves with hunting. Oh, yes! anything may be going on in their district, then they see nothing, they hear nothing!"

"But, Resident--" Verstork ventured to say.

"Hold your tongue, sir," cried van Gulpendam, savagely, "I have asked you no question, when I do it will be time enough to answer, and then, I suspect, you will have no reply to make."

Verstork was standing there, in the office of his superior officer, pale as death and unnerved and biting his lips with suppressed rage.

"I cannot say, Mr. Verstork, that you have clapped on too much sail--you have been somewhat slow in making me acquainted with these painful events."

"Resident, I--"

"I did not put any question," again roared van Gulpendam, with a look of scorn and contempt upon his subordinate, "please hold your tongue!"

"It appeared to me, Resident, that--"

"Be silent, I say! I only have a right to speak--"

Verstork, however, took no heed of this rude interruption, and quietly went on: "--That you made some remarks about the time of my presenting my report. If that be so, I feel it my duty, nay my right, to exculpate myself."

"If you will not keep silence," shouted van Gulpendam, "I will call--" he was on the point of making a mistake, he was just going to say the boatswain's mate; but he checked himself and said, "I will call my chief constable and have you removed out of my presence."

"Hark you, Mr. van Gulpendam," said Verstork drawing himself up to his full height, and speaking with much dignity, "Hark you, I am neither your corporal nor your boatswain of the watch. And, further, let me tell you that if you continue to address me in such terms I will lodge a complaint against you with the Secretary for the Home Department, or better still, with the Governor General!"

It was now van Gulpendam's turn to change colour, he saw that he had gone a little too far. He had so long been accustomed to see every one bowing down before him and putting up with all his whims and fits of bad temper, that he never thought of checking himself in the presence of Verstork, whom he had always looked upon as an easy-going and good-tempered fellow. He now, however, at once drew in his horns and said in a very different tone:

"Pardon me, Mr. Verstork, you know I am of a sanguine temperament. I am, moreover, very much vexed at not receiving this news from one of my officers in the first instance. Come, take a seat, I should like to run my eye over this report."

The Controller sat down, while the resident at his desk turned his back to the light and began reading the document. Outside the office, a couple of police oppassers were pacing up and down, attracted, no doubt, to the spot by the high tone of voice in which the conversation had been carried on. In a moment or two van Gulpendam again broke out--"I thought as much--I had been warned of this--" But, checking himself, he said no more, and went on reading.

"Resident," said Verstork, "may I beg leave to inquire against what you have been warned?"

Van Gulpendam looked up over the sheet of paper he held in his hand, and fixing his eye on the controller's face which was turned to the light, he said, with an assumed air of dignity:

"Mr. Verstork, you really ought to try and cure yourself of the bad habit you seem to have contracted of interrogating your superiors. Believe me that kind of thing makes a very bad impression. I do not mind telling you what warning I have received, not, mind you, because you demand the information; but because I consider it only fair that you should know. It will probably bring you to the conclusion that you had better take back this report and modify it altogether."

"Modify my report, Resident?" exclaimed Verstork; but, without noticing the interruption, van Gulpendam continued:

"I have been informed that you intend to represent matters in such a light as to make it appear that a successful attempt has been made on the honour of this Javanese girl.

"But, Resident," said Verstork, very gravely, "this question concerns a person who is in your service, who is the baboe--I may almost say--the companion, of your own daughter."

"And who, as such," said van Gulpendam, interrupting him, "ought to be a person of unblemished character. I quite agree with you there. Unfortunately, she is nothing of the kind. Only a few days ago she was roaming about outside the house for the whole night, and then came in with a long rigmarole about a forcible abduction of which she pretended to have been the victim. Now again, for the second time, she is out at night, and this time she is found in the possession of opium. She is the daughter of a smuggler--you know that as well as I do, seeing that on Saturday last there was a murder committed in her father's house, of which, luckily, you sent me timely notice. She is engaged to be married to another opium smuggler; and now it has been proved that she is a smuggler herself. At present she is safe under lock and key, and I am glad of it, as it will spare me the trouble of driving the brazen-faced slut out of my premises."

"But, Resident," resumed Verstork, as soon as his chief paused for a moment to take breath, "when we came running up to her cries for help, she was naked, bleeding, her hair dishevelled. Everything in fact pointed to--"

"A desperate resistance to the police," broke in van Gulpendam. "I know all about that. Did you examine her?"

"No, I did not."

"Very well, that examination I have ordered the medical authorities to hold, and see there," continued the Resident, as he looked out of the window, "why, unless I am mistaken, that is the carriage of the chief medical officer now stopping at the gate! We shall soon get to the bottom of this business."

Almost immediately after this the chief constable came in to announce the arrival of the Surgeon General. The latter advanced to the Resident's chair, shook hands very ceremoniously, and then went through the same process, but much more familiarly, with the Controller.

"Ha, Verstork--you here?" he said.

Before, however, the Controller had time to reply, the Resident, turning to the doctor, said:

"Take a seat, doctor--well?--"

"No question of any such thing, Resident!"

"Indeed--now did I not tell you so? But the girl was wounded they told me."

"A few scratches of no importance whatever--mere trifling skin-wounds and a little blood!"

"There was therefore no stu--stu--what did you call it?"

"Stuprum violentum--Oh, no, no! nothing of the kind. Here is the formal certificate properly filled in--that will be sufficient to satisfy all objections."

"Thank you, doctor--much obliged to you."

"Now, Resident, I must beg you to excuse me. I must be off at once as I have a number of visits to pay. Good-bye, sir--good-bye, Verstork."

"No excuse required, doctor," said van Gulpendam, "don't let me detain you; good-morning!"

As soon as the medical officer had disappeared van Gulpendam turned to Verstork and said:

"You heard that--didn't you, Mr. Verstork?"

"Oh, yes, I heard it; but my conviction is not the least shaken."

"It is not?"

"No, Resident."

"Well, for all that," said van Gulpendam, airily, "I advise you to heave to."

"To heave to? I don't understand you," said Verstork, though all the time he understood perfectly.

"I will express my meaning in plainer terms," returned van Gulpendam, very deliberately, "I advise you, as I have done already, to take back this report and to modify it."

"Why should I do so, Resident? Why do you give me that advice?"

"Because, in the first place, the facts mentioned in it are twisted, exaggerated, and represented from a prejudiced and partial point of view."

"Resident!" interrupted Verstork.

But without heeding him van Gulpendam went on:

"In fact that paper reads like a sensational report, which evidently is aimed at attaining some ultimate object. And then again there occur in it passages which most certainly will be highly displeasing to the Government. Here, for instance, is one of them:"

The Resident turned over the leaves of the document, and seemed to be looking for a certain passage; having found it he read as follows:

"Allow me also to state that my official career of twelve years has taught me that the opium-monopoly is an imperium in imperio; that in order to promote the opium-trade everything the people loves and honours is trampled upon and trodden under foot. The opium-farmer does not trouble himself in the least about police regulations or about penal statutes, his satellites simply enter people's houses and violate the right of domicile; his spies and his policemen--at all events the police which he has in his pay--have no scruples whatever, and pay no respect to anything. A European would make himself liable to severe punishment were he to treat the natives in the manner in which the refuse of mankind, if only they are in the opium-farmer's employ, dares to treat them. These opium-agents have respect neither for the husband, the wife, nor the daughter. In the houses, aye even on the public roads, they strip them, they search them in the most disgusting manner, and never trouble themselves about any protest at all. These scoundrels, sheltering themselves under the impunity which the opium monopoly casts over them, inflict upon the natives the most horrible insults frequently to satisfy their own passions, sometimes merely for the purpose of revenge. A sad proof of this is the treatment to which the Javanese girl, Dalima, has been subjected."

The Resident paused here for an instant and fixed a penetrating glance upon his subordinate; but the latter as steadily returned his gaze.

"You see," he continued, "when I read such rant as that, then I am forced to suspect"--and here the high functionary significantly tapped his forehead with his finger--"that there is something wrong with you here!"

"Resident! exclaimed Verstork, "you are forgetting yourself!"

"Not at all, my dear sir, for by writing thus, what do you in fact tell me, in so many words? What but this: that in your districts these domiciliary visits and these searches on the high roads are necessary to prevent the illegal sale of opium. You know, even better than I do, that quite lately there have in your districts been several very ugly revelations. I have only to call to your mind the capture at Moeara Tjatjing, the capture at Kaligaweh in the house of Pak Ardjan, and now again smuggled opium is found with Setrosmito and with his daughter Dalima. Suspicions may perhaps have arisen in my mind that Banjoe Pahit is a hot-bed of smuggling; but now your most intemperate language confirms my worst fears."

"Resident!" cried Verstork no longer able to contain himself, "however great is the respect which I am bound to feel for your mature judgment, yet I cannot allow these words of yours to pass without protesting against them. For, in the first place, you insinuate that I have been guilty of neglect of duty with regard to the opium-traffic, and, in the next, you suggest that this neglect of duty on my part has made Banjoe Pahit a hot-bed of the smuggling-trade. I am, however, perfectly well acquainted with the duties which the Order of 1867 imposes upon me, and, allow me to assure you, I am too conscientious to neglect those duties."

"My dear Mr. Verstork, I did not intend----" interrupted van Gulpendam.

"Give me leave to continue," resumed Verstork; "I have been attacked, I now defend myself against your imputations, it is my duty to do so, and I claim it as my right. I positively and utterly deny that Banjoe Pahit is a hot-bed of smuggling."

"Do you intend to tell me then," cried van Gulpendam, "that no smuggling is carried on there?"

"I do nothing of the kind, Resident," replied Verstork, "were I to do so that would be saying what I know to be untrue. My district lies right along the open and everywhere accessible coast of the Java sea. The laws which control the illegal traffic in opium are, as you are aware, wholly insufficient; and, even such as they are, we have not the power to carry out the laws effectually. No wonder then that the smugglers--and, as you know, the opium-farmers themselves are the chief offenders--no wonder, I say, that the smugglers make the most of this lax state of things. It stands to reason that it should be so; but if you compare the illegal trade which goes on at Banjoe Pahit with the smuggling in the adjoining districts which lie along the same sea-coast, then I maintain that you will find that my district, far from being as you would have it, a hot-bed of smuggling, contrasts, in that respect, very favourably with the others. Now, as regards the cases to which you have twice alluded, I, as controller of the district, have very carefully investigated them; and I now give it you as my deliberate opinion that the opium discovered at Moeara Tjatjing was put on shore by the boats of the schooner brig Kiem Ping Hin, a vessel which, you know, does not stand in the odour of sanctity; whilst the other two concern but very minute quantities of the drug which assuredly would never have been found at all, had the bandoelans been previously themselves well searched."

"That is all very fine, Mr. Verstork," replied van Gulpendam, "but for the present it carries us too much into detail. To come to the point, however, I now again repeat my friendly advice, go about, go about, and take back this report."

William Verstork sat there pale as death. For a moment he covered his eyes with his hands as if he would exclude some painful vision, and he reflected. The thought of his mother, of his sisters and brothers, came up vividly before him, and ran like a red-hot iron through his brain. He fully grasped the purport of the advice he had heard. He knew perfectly well that it was not only a counsel, but also a threat, a threat moreover from an all-powerful superior to a helpless subordinate. For one moment--to his honour be it said, it was but for one moment--he hesitated; then his strong natural sense of duty resumed its sway.

"Resident," said he in a gentle and low, but yet in a perfectly steady voice, "what would be your opinion of me if I were to give way and follow your counsel? What would you think of me if I were to take back my report? I say nothing now of the violence which I thus would be doing to my sense of common honesty."

"Sirrr!" roared van Gulpendam in a passion.

"Would you not, in that case, consider me wholly unfit for the position which I at present occupy; would you not feel the deepest contempt for my character, and would not your sense of duty urge you at once to request me to retire from my country's service? At any rate, I know that you could never again, from that moment, place the slightest confidence in me. Is not that true? And yet the position I occupy imperatively demands that I should enjoy the fullest confidence of my superior officer."

Mr. van Gulpendam had by this time recovered his temper, he could not help feeling the force of Verstork's words.

"You take the whole business," said he in his most conciliatory manner, "much too seriously. Now, just see how I look upon it. Yesterday you gentlemen had a most fatiguing day's hunting. I make no doubt that now and then the pocket-flask was appealed to--of course it was, and very naturally too. After the hunt was over, a jolly sociable dinner, at which strong, heady Haantjes beer and heavy Baour wine--perhaps even generous champagne circulated pretty freely. No harm in that, all that is the most natural thing in the world. Amongst young people one could expect nothing else. Well--in that happy frame of mind you sat down to write your report--that is how I look upon it."

"Indeed, Resident," replied Verstork, "that report of mine then seems to have made no impression upon you, than that either I was not right in the head, or that I wrote it under the influence of liquor?"

"Mr. Verstork, my dear sir, you have such a queer way of blurting out things. Believe me, I have but one object in view, and that is to prevent you--in your own interest mind you--to commit an act of folly. It is for you to say whether you are prepared to withdraw this report--yes or no. To this I have but a single word to add, and that is: that your entire career depends upon your present decision."

Verstork heaved a deep sigh. He saw only too clearly that, in whatever way he might decide to act, his position was an exceedingly difficult one. But for all that he would not retrace one step on the straight path upon which he had entered, which he knew was the path of truth and honour, and very quietly, but very firmly he said:

"Resident, my decision is taken. Come what will, I refuse to take back my report."

"Is that your final decision?"

"It is, Resident."

"Now think it well over--is that your last word?"

"Resident, it is."

"Be it so," said van Gulpendam with apparent resignation, "you will have no one but yourself to blame for the consequences."

"I am prepared to meet the consequences, Resident."

"Very well, in that case I shall have to send up the paper in its present state to the Governor General--the matter will then be in his hands."

Verstork was preparing to rise and take his leave, thinking that the painful interview was at an end.

"One moment please, Mr. Verstork," said the Resident. "Just sit down for another few minutes--I have another account to settle with you."

"What is that, Resident?" asked the Controller.

"Yesterday morning a highly respected inhabitant of the island was publicly insulted and even suffered personal violence, merely because, at your bidding, he bore testimony to the truth. That abuse and that ill-treatment he suffered in your presence and you did not, so far as I am aware, exercise your authority either to prevent it or to put a stop to it."

"It was all the work of an instant," replied Verstork; "the words were uttered and the blows were dealt so suddenly and so unexpectedly, that no one--not even you--had you been present--could have interposed. I can assure you that had there been the slightest fear of the offence being repeated, I would have stepped in to prevent it."

"I know nothing about all that," said van Gulpendam coldly. "I only know that abusive words were uttered and blows were dealt, while you, the superior officer, stood by. That is how the matter stands. Now if I could only have suggested to the authorities that our young hunters were in a state of excitement and that the action was merely one of youthful indiscretion."

"No, Resident, not so," exclaimed Verstork, "not at all--not at least under the influence of that particular kind of excitement which you were kind enough to suggest just now."

"It was done therefore in cold blood! I am obliged, Mr. Verstork, to take notice of that fact; you see even if I were disposed to be lenient, your own words deprive me of the power of hushing the matter up. All this, I fear, is not much in your favour, sir, and your friend, who seems so ready with his fists, will thank you no doubt for your testimony to his sobriety."

"My friend!" cried Verstork, "what has he got to do with all this?"

"What has he got to do with it? Why he will find that out soon enough I fear. I have here lying before me a formal accusation, which I hoped I might be able quietly to shelve and say no more about; but now, I must forward it to the authorities. You see, Mr. Verstork, you might have avoided all this unpleasantness."

"Ah, Resident," replied Verstork very bitterly, "I begin to see that Mr. Mokesuep has not allowed the grass to grow under his feet. Be all that, however, as it may. If you think that this trifling occurrence must be followed up--very well then, let the law have its course! I shall be the very first to appear as a witness."

The Resident uttered a strange short laugh; but made no reply.

Verstork rose from his seat.

"Have you any further orders, sir?" he said with a formal bow.

"None at present, Mr. Verstork."

"Then I beg to wish you a very good morning."

A slight nod from the Resident, who still kept his seat at his desk, was the only reply to his greeting.

The next moment Verstork was walking down the steps of the mansion muttering to himself as he went, "Poor mother, poor sisters!"

"Stupid ass," said van Gulpendam to himself. "Yes, an arrant fool indeed! Now that that booby won't come to terms the business will require a little more piloting. Never mind, I have friends in Batavia who know how to get such questions safe into harbour; men who knew how to make General van der Heijden disappear, and who will not think much of this little job. Forward! is the word--at the end of it all there is the 'Virtus Nobilitat.'"

A short time after, Verstork sat down to dinner with his friend van Nerekool. The latter was the only one at home since van Rheijn had sent word that pressing business would keep him at the office and that he could therefore not be in to dinner. The two friends were discussing the events of the former day and the result also of the morning's interview with the Resident. The Controller was so utterly downcast and disheartened, that van Nerekool, who himself was not in the best of spirits, yet felt that he must try and cheer him up and put some courage into him.

"Come, William, old fellow," he said, "don't hang your head so sadly. You would almost make me think that you repent of the course of action you have taken."

"Repent, Charles," cried the other, very sadly and yet without a sign of hesitation. "Repent? no never, if it were all to do again I would, in every respect, act as I have done. But, my poor mother, my poor sisters!"

"Don't look at things so darkly," said van Nerekool.

"So darkly did you say? Why--the very best thing that can happen is that I shall be transferred to some other place--that I shall be torn out of the sphere of work to which here I have become accustomed."

"Well," said Charles, "and suppose that should happen?"

"Why, that in itself is already a grave misfortune; you know how expensive moving is in India. Then comes the question, where shall I be sent to? You do not suppose that they will give me a lucrative place. For years and years I shall have to face very serious pecuniary difficulties and, meanwhile, it will be impossible for me to do for my dear family that which it has now so long been my pleasure to do."

"Come, come," replied Charles van Nerekool, "cheer up! Even if it comes to the worst, some remedy will be found for that at least--I can promise you so much at least."

"But, my dear Charles--that is the smallest misfortune that can happen to me. Every other possibility is simply terrible. Just think--what if they dismissed me from the service altogether?"

"Now," said Charles, "you are exaggerating. What in the world have you done to deserve dismissal! On the contrary, you have secured for yourself the esteem and admiration of every honest man."

"Honest man!" said Verstork bitterly, "oh you don't know with whom I have to deal!"

Van Nerekool's face twitched painfully--he had learned to know something of the man with whom his friend had come into collision.

"But," continued he as cheerfully as he could, "but can we not think of some means of warding off the blow? Can we not manage to avoid even the least of these misfortunes?"

"Aye," cried Verstork, "that is the very thing I have been cudgelling my brains about?"

"Have you any friends at Batavia," asked van Nerekool, "do you know any one there?"

"Friends? yes, I know one man, a certain Mr. Reijnaals."

"What? Reijnaals--the son-in-law of the member of the Indian Council?"

"Yes, that is the man."

"Why then he is your man. Come cheer up and let us now together sit down and draw up an accurate account of all that has taken place. That account you will send to Reijnaals. And I also have friends in Batavia who, I think, have some influence. I will write to them. Come let us set to work and begin our battle fearlessly--it is no good moping." So the two friends sat down to their task and when, very late in the afternoon, Edward van Rheijn came home from his office, two letters almost as bulky as parcels, had been sent off by the mail. Van Rheijn looked weary and care-worn.

"You are very late," said van Nerekool--"have you been very busy?"

"Yes, very busy," was the brief reply. "I am tired out and am going to lie down a bit."

"Anything particular?"

"No, nothing very particular; but plenty of work."

"What about?" asked van Nerekool.

"Excuse me," replied van Rheijn putting his fingers to his lips, "they are office-secrets which I am not at liberty to reveal."

With these words he involuntarily cast a pitying look on William Verstork.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

XXII. A SALE AT BANJOE PAHIT

On a Saturday evening, about a fortnight after, a great number of young people were assembled in the open air at the round table before the verandah of Concordia, the club at Santjoemeh. It was a gala-night and consequently all the élite of Santjoemeh had turned out. The gentlemen were for the most part inside the club-house, or strolling about within the grounds, the ladies, either on foot or reclining in elegant carriages, were promenading and enjoying the splendid evening which the full moon, at nine o'clock high up in the heavens, rendered still more delightful, and listening to the excellent music of the band.

Within the club-house were seated some elderly ladies and gentlemen, gravely and solemnly playing a game at cards; the young people lounged in the front gallery, while the gayer and more restless spirits among them sought the open air and were, as we said above, grouped round the table in front of the outer gallery. There they found themselves in full view of the ladies whose glances they were glad to receive and ready to repay with interest.

"Look yonder," cried one of this group, "there goes pretty little Celine with her mother and her aunt!"

"Yes," replied another, "and Hermance on horseback; I think her a much prettier girl."

"I say, look out! there comes the Resident's carriage."

"Aye, I see with fair Laurentia. She is no doubt coming to take a hand. Just look how attentive van Rheijn is to her. Quite the gallant--he is helping her down--now he offers his arm!"

"Of course! the njonja of Kandjeng toean Resident!"

"You may say what you like but she is a monstrous fine woman--I envy that fellow Edward!"

"I grant you--she is a splendid woman--but she is not a patch upon her daughter."

"You are right there," cried another. "By the way where can nonna Anna have got to? One sees her nowhere now."

"I am told she is gone on a visit to a friend--they say to spend a few weeks with the wife of the Assistant Resident of Karang Anjer."

"What Karang Anjer in Bagelen? That is a deuce of a way off! Is there anything wrong with her?"

"Why, don't you know? Van Nerekool has proposed and been refused--and it appears that until Charles can get some other appointment elsewhere, the Resident wants to keep his daughter out of the way."

"What do you say?" asked another, "Charles van Nerekool going away--what in the world is that for?"

Just then Grenits, who had been sitting some time in the reading-room of the Club, came up to the group of young men with a newspaper in his hand.

"Good evening, Theodoor!" was the general cry; for the young merchant was very much liked by all, and exceedingly popular among the members. "Have you got any news that you are walking about with the Santjoemeh Herald?"

"Listen to me, gentlemen," said Grenits as he slowly unfolded his paper and began to read:

"'Messrs. Gladbach and Co., will sell by public auction on Monday the 24th inst., the whole of the Furniture and Effects belonging to William Verstork, Esq., Controller at Banjoe Pahit. The principal items include: seats, rocking and easy chairs, tables, marble-topped consoles, mirrors, paintings, lamps of all descriptions, terra-cotta statuettes, awnings, screens, bedsteads and bedroom furniture complete--wash-stands, wardrobes, linen-presses, cupboards, kitchen and stable furniture--all in excellent preservation and as good as new. Further a splendid collection of plants such as roses, crotons, ferns, &c., in pots and ornamental tubs. One Bengal cow with calf in full milk, a considerable quantity of poultry; turkeys, geese, ducks, fowls and pigeons. Several carriages all nearly new--a well-trained saddle horse, a pair of iron-grey carriage horses, a pair ditto, black Battakkers. Messrs. Gladbach & Co. are prepared to supply full particulars, catalogues and conditions of sale. Nota Bene. On Monday next from 7.30 to 8.30 carriages will start from the green at Santjoemeh to convey intending purchasers to and from Banjoe Pahit free of cost.'"

As Grenits concluded, his hearers looked at one another in some surprise.

"Come, that's not a bad idea," said one, "that free conveyance is a capital dodge."

"Verstork going to leave!" cried another. "Where is he off to--it seems he is going to sell even his saddle-horse."

"He is going to Atjeh," replied Grenits. "He won't want a horse there."

"To Atjeh! why that is impossible" cried another, "the army is in charge there, there can be no vacancy in that place for a civilian like Verstork!"

"I know nothing at all about it--I can only tell you what William has told me. But, in order that no mistake may arise, allow me to tell you gentlemen that my friend Verstork knows nothing whatever about the free conveyances to Banjoe Pahit, that is entirely my doing, about which I have not consulted him. I alone am responsible for that addition to the advertisement."

"I see," laughed one of the company, "you do not want the thing to hang fire."

"Very likely not," said Grenits coolly.

"But," asked another, "why is Verstork to be removed, and to Atjeh, of all places in the world?"

Grenits shrugged his shoulders but made no reply.

"Why, don't you know?" cried another, "it is all about that affair with Lim Ho! You have heard of the story of Lim Ho and the pretty baboe Dalima?"

"Aye--I know now--when Lim Ho so nobly resisted temptation--at least so says our Surgeon-major."

"Yes," added another voice, "and when our friend Grenits boxed somebody's ears."

"Ah, yes--Muizenkop did catch it--I say what has come of that business?"

"He has brought an action against me," shortly replied Grenits.

"Has he? The brute! But how do you know that, Theodoor?"

"Why," said Grenits, "he has served me with a summons."

"Ai--! that means a few days' free lodging for you, my friend. Well, never mind, we will come and look you up now and then--won't we, gentlemen?"

"To be sure we will," was the general chorus.

"Time enough to think of that," said Grenits. "If I am locked up I shall expect to see you, my friends. But just at present we have something more serious to attend to. About that sale--I invite you all to put in an appearance on Monday next."

"That Grenits always has an eye to business," said one of the young men with a laugh.

"Gentlemen," continued Theodoor most gravely, "this is no joking matter. It concerns an innocent man who hitherto has maintained a mother and sisters entirely dependent upon his aid--and the question is whether he will, in the future, be able to continue to give them that assistance?"

"Oh, is that it!" was the cry all round, "then we shall all be there--you may depend upon us!"

"Yes, you may depend upon every one of us!"

"Thank you," said Grenits, "that's a bargain."

Yes! William Verstork was removed from Banjoe Pahit and was to be sent to Atjeh! The detailed report which he had dispatched to Reijnaal had been of no avail. He might perhaps have over-estimated his friend's influence--or, perhaps, that friend did not much like to meddle in the matter; at all events nothing came of Verstork's appeal. The letters also which van Nerekool had written to Batavia led to nothing. He did receive a kind of answer; but they were only a few vague and half intelligible sentences.

What really happened in Batavia was this. On a certain Friday--the usual day on which the Council of India meet--the assembled members were greatly surprised at seeing the Governor General suddenly appear in their midst, a thing which very seldom happened.

"Gentlemen," he said, after the customary ceremonial greetings had been exchanged, "Gentlemen, a very serious complaint against a first-class Controller has been forwarded to me by the Resident at Santjoemeh. I have also received a document from the subordinate officer, containing his defence to the charges made by his superior. This document directly contradicts many of the Resident's statements, and it is for that reason that I am desirous of having the advantage of your opinion. Now the Resident at Santjoemeh is a most zealous and meritorious public servant, thoroughly devoted to his country's interests; but it must be said that in the discharge of his duties, and especially in his conduct towards his subordinates, he is frequently too absolute and peremptory, and allows his feelings to get the better of him. I must, at the same time, however, confess that even thus he never loses sight of the common-weal. Such being the case in this matter also, it would not have been difficult for me, I think, so to settle the dispute as to satisfy both parties without in any way interfering with the superior officer's authority. Unfortunately, however, the question is a more complicated one. The difference between the Resident and his Controller is one which seems to implicate the opium-farmer at Santjoemeh, and which threatens to bring us into conflict with him. I think indeed I may go a step further, and that I am justified in saying that a strict investigation, such as the controller insists upon, would bring to light certain transactions which would compel us altogether to exclude the present farmer Lim Yang Bing from the approaching contest for the opium monopoly. Now, in strict justice, that exclusion would no doubt be highly desirable; but we must not lose sight of the fact that this Lim Yang Bing is the wealthiest Chinaman in Santjoemeh, that he stands at the head of the most considerable company in that district, and that he thus exercises almost absolute control over his countrymen there. The consequence, therefore, of excluding him from the coming opium competition, would be a very considerable fall in the amount which, at present, it is expected to realise. And that, in days like the present!--Yes, gentlemen, I repeat it, at a time like the present!--Just now I received a telegram in cypher from the Hague, which tells me that the estimate of the Colonial Secretary has found no favour in our house of Representatives; because it is thought that his estimate is much too low, and that expenses have not been sufficiently kept down. That telegram further states that one of you gentlemen will most probably soon be invited to take the place of our present Colonial Secretary. Well--whoever he may be, I cannot say that I envy him the distinction. It is quite certain, however, that the first thing he will be expected to do, is to drive up the revenue to as high a figure as possible, and, for that purpose, the opium monopoly, in spite of what men may think or say about it, seems to me to be the only available means. In order, therefore, not to make the task of the future minister more difficult than it must of necessity be, it is my opinion that it would be good policy just at present to protect the opium farmer. The Resident of Santjoemeh tells me that the withdrawal of Lim Yang Bing from the competition will make a difference in the revenue of at least six or seven hundred thousand guilders."

At the mention of these figures, the eyes of the youngest member of the Council sparkled with unwonted fire, and, in his zeal for the public exchequer, forgetting the usual etiquette, he interrupted the Governor General before the latter had quite finished his speech.

"With your Excellency's leave," said he, jumping up from his seat with much animation, "I would remark, and I feel confident that, in what I am about to say, I shall but utter the sentiments of all my colleagues, that under circumstances like the present, we ought not to hesitate to adopt any measures which may serve to make the finances of the country correspond to the demands of the times. Any proposal which may promote such equilibrium cannot fail of ready acceptance from a board such as ours, which, inspired by the highest patriotic feelings, is ever prepared to make any sacrifices for the welfare of Holland."

The appeal was so shameless that its very grossness insured its success. The members of the Council bowed their heads in acquiescence, and the lips, which could have uttered such terrible truths, under the influence, doubtless, of the enervating effect of the tropical sun, now merely opened sleepily to utter an obsequious:

"Yes, your Excellency!"

The Governor General, who at once perceived that he had gained his point, then said with a sigh:

"In that case my course with the Controller is clear. I am much obliged to you, gentlemen, for your counsel."

The next moment the drum was rolling at the main guard, and the men turned out to present arms to the king's representative as he drove away to his palace on the Koningsplein, well satisfied, no doubt, that he had performed a signal service to his country, if not to humanity at large.

In four days' time William Verstork received the order of his removal to Atjeh, and, what was perhaps more galling still, along with it a letter from the Director of the Home Department, in which that official expressed the hope that, in his capacity of Controller, he would make the best use of his undoubted abilities and of his great knowledge of the native character to aid and assist the military authorities in their arduous task of pacifying the population. And, the director went on to say: "Allow me also to cherish the expectation that, in the future, you will exhibit a greater amount of tact; and to suggest that you should show more deference and respect to your superiors; for, after this plain warning, you can expect no further indulgence."

"Well, Charles," cried Verstork, as he flung the letter upon the table, "what do you think of that?"

"I think it is a burning shame!" replied van Nerekool, his voice trembling with indignation.

"You see, my dear fellow," continued Verstork, "this is the most favourable result we could anticipate. Removed to Atjeh! that is to say struck off from the list of the Home Department of Java and Madura. It is simply a degradation. Are these the principles which animate our rulers? The state of society out here is rotten--rotten to the core!"

"No, no!" cried van Nerekool, with animation, "don't say that--there is one part of that society which is sound and undefiled, and which stands high above the tricks and paltry intrigues of the ruling powers--and that is the judicature. The power of the law will succeed in bridling and subduing the monster of injustice and tyranny."

Charles van Nerekool spoke these words with all the enthusiasm of truth--he was fully persuaded of the truth of his assertion. Verstork looked at his friend and a bitter smile came over his troubled countenance. He did not, however, say a single word, he would not disturb the day-dream of his friend--the future, he knew, would soon enough dissipate his fond illusions.

Banjoe Pahit, that quiet and secluded dessa, was, on Monday morning, the scene of the greatest excitement.

At the gate of the Controller's house a Javanese stood striking measured blows on the gong, and that unwonted noise brought the entire population around him. Within the house, Grenits, Grashuis, and van Nerekool were busily employed helping Verstork to set out the furniture, which, presently, was to be offered for sale, to the best advantage. In one place a writing-desk had to be placed in a more prominent position--in another a cupboard or table had to be re-arranged. Pictures also and statuettes had to be placed in the most favourable light; for Grenits, with the true eye of a commercial man, knew that, next to advertising, a tasteful exhibition of the articles would attract the attention of the buyers.

At length all was considered in readiness, and it was with a kind of mournful satisfaction that the friends walked through the apartments, surveying and admiring the arrangement in which they had borne a principal share. In the back galleries especially, where the glass, the crystal and the dinner-services were displayed, their finishing touches had been remarkably successful.

Everything looked so neat, and in such perfect order, that Grenits could not help exclaiming:

"No one would think that these are bachelor's quarters! William, I can promise you an excellent sale."

Meanwhile the gong kept on clanging incessantly.

Just then a couple of carriages came rolling up to the Controller's house. Out of one of these stepped the Regent of Santjoemeh, and he at once walked up to the European gentlemen. After the customary salutations:

"Well, Radhen Mas Toemenggoeng," said Grashuis hugely pleased at seeing the Javanese chief arriving thus early, "you are coming, I hope, to buy a good lot!"

"Perhaps, sir, but money is scarce," replied the Regent with a smile.

"Never mind that, Radhen Mas," laughed Grenits, "you can buy on tick."

The cautious old chief smiled and shook his head, but had no time to reply; for by this time the second conveyance, a capacious drag, had discharged its load which consisted of a member of the firm of Gladbach and Co. and the whole of his staff of clerks, &c.

The agent walked up to Verstork, shook hands with him and whispered:

"Very bad news, Controller!"

"What is the matter?" asked Verstork.

"The Chinamen at Santjoemeh have been ordered not to come to your sale."

"Who gave that order?"

"I don't know," replied the agent shrugging his shoulders. This was bad news indeed; for the Chinamen, if they happen to be well disposed towards the owner, are generally very brisk bidders. Their abstention indeed threatened to be very disastrous.

Verstork heaved a deep sigh as he ran his eye over his possessions which now bid fair to go for an old song. He sighed, not because he particularly regretted the probable loss; but at the thought of his dear ones yonder who--

But fortunately he had no time for indulging in melancholy forebodings, for the carriages now succeeded one another with amazing rapidity. Drags, landaus, waggonettes, dog-carts, and spring-carts, came flying up the drive and began setting down their loads at the entrance of the Controller's house. A great number of horsemen too and pedestrians from the estates round about, began to flock in; and the oppassers on duty found it as much as they could do to keep the carriages in line, to put up the saddle-horses and to usher the gentlemen into the house.

All ranks of European society in Java were there represented; landowners, tenants, coffee planters, rice-planters, sugar and indigo manufacturers, merchants, insurance agents, shipping agents, solicitors, notaries, barristers, judges, officers of the Army and Navy, in fact it seemed as if the whole of Santjoemeh had migrated bodily to Banjoe Pahit. In the capital all business was at a standstill; there was not a single conveyance, not a single spring-cart or carriage to be got there. The Resident van Gulpendam noticed that these vehicles did not occupy their usual stands, and was told that they were all off to Banjoe Pahit.

He smiled at the information; but it was on the wrong side of his mouth.

Still the gong went on giving forth its harsh discordant sounds.

The employés of the Home office and its clerks and writers, who were employed in the Residential office, were conspicuous by their absence. Not one of them had been able to get leave for an excursion to Banjoe Pahit.

The Javanese population, in their usual retiring way, timidly crowded round the animated scene. These poor people most assuredly did not come to buy, they were impelled by curiosity just to get a peep at the interior of a European's dwelling house.

Treêng, treêng went the gong incessantly. When the company had pretty well assembled, and compliments had been duly exchanged, Verstork left the place. He could not bear to be present and see his household gods dispersed. So he went to the Mohammedan priest, with whom he had some matters to settle before he left the dessa, and after the sale was over he purposed to return to Santjoemeh with van Nerekool, Grashuis and Grenits.--

No sooner had he left, than the representative of Gladbach & Co. whispered a few words to the auctioneer. The latter made a sign to one of his servants. Hereupon the gong began to clash more horribly than before, a shower of blows fell on the metal disc. This infernal din lasted for a space of ten minutes, and then suddenly ceased altogether.

The proceedings now began.

The sale was opened in the front gallery in which a very fine collection of flowers in ornamental pots and tubs, were tastefully arranged in groups of a dozen, on the steps which led up to the verandah. These were the first lots to be disposed of.

"Twelve pots of flowers!" began the auctioneer, "who will make a bid for them?"

"One guilder!" cried someone in the crowd.

"One guilder bid, one guilder!" cried the auctioneer in the usual drawl.

"One and a half!"

"One and a half," repeated the auctioneer.

"Two guilders! Three guilders! Four guilders! Five guilders!" came the bids in quick succession.

"Five guilders! Five guilders bid!" cried the auctioneer, "Who bids higher? Five guilders are bid," drawled the auctioneer, as he turned his head and stared hard at the last bidder but one.

"Eight guilders!" cried the latter.

"Eight guilders!" cried the echo, "who bids higher?" Then the fire opened again.

"And a quarter," cried a voice.

"Eight and a half!"

"Eight three quarters!"

"Nine guilders!"

"Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen!"

"Thirteen guilders," cried the auctioneer, "who bids more than thirteen?"

"I wouldn't mind," cried a voice, "if I only knew how to get those confounded pots home to Santjoemeh."

"Never mind that," shouted another, "I will take them for you in my cart."

"Thirteen, twice!" said the auctioneer.

"Fourteen, fifteen," went the bids.

"Fifteen!--once!" said the auctioneer.

"Twenty guilders!" shouted a voice which rang out above all the noise.

"A fine bid," murmured Grenits.

"Twenty guilders, once--Twenty, twice--Twenty for the third and last time!"

Bang! down came the hammer.

"Who is the buyer?" asked the clerk.

"I am," replied an officer. He was an elderly man--a first Lieutenant of Infantry.

"Who is I?" asked the auctioneer from his perch.

"I, Langeveld, first Lieutenant of Infantry."

"Mr. Langeveld, do you pay cash down?" asked the auctioneer.

"Cash down?" asked the officer, quite surprised, "what do you mean? Your office always gives three months' credit."

"Only to those whose pay is above two hundred and fifty guilders," said the man.

"Two hundred and fifty guilders? Whose order is that?"

"It is the order of the superintendent of sales at Santjoemeh," replied the auctioneer.

"The Resident," muttered van Nerekool, "a most infamous trick!"

"Do you pay ready money? No?" continued the auctioneer, "then you will have to find some security, or else the lot will have to be put up again."

The officer, who was a man of unblemished name and character, turned fiery red at this wanton and unexpected insult.

"Lieutenant Langeveld, I will be your security!" cried van Nerekool.

The officer bowed his thanks. The second lot of flowers, however, which was much finer than the first, did not fetch a rix-dollar. The shameful dodge at headquarters evidently had its effect on the spirits of the buyers. Grenits saw the drift of all this in a moment. He held a hasty consultation with van Nerekool and a few landowners who were standing by him. Just as the third dozen of pots were being put up, a burly, broad-shouldered gentleman cried out:

"A word with you, Mr. Auctioneer. A disgraceful trick is being played here--I never saw such a dirty thing done before--a trick which Mr. van Nerekool, Mr. Grenits and myself are determined to frustrate. For every gentleman who wishes to buy at this sale, and who may happen to fall under this novel condition of having to pay ready money, we will stand security."

"Bravo! bravo!" was the general shout.

"Does that satisfy you, Mr. Auctioneer?"

The man nodded assent. He could not do otherwise. This incident served to rouse a general enthusiasm; the third lot of flowers brought eighty guilders; the last no less a sum than two hundred and fifty. True it is that before this last lot was put up Grenits had cried:

"Crotons! magnificent crotons! The Adal-adal! (Croton Tiglium); the Camilla (Rothlera tinctoria); the Kamillakkian (Croton Corylifolius) and the wax-bearing Croton (Croton sebiferus)! Who will bid for them? I bid sixty guilders!"

A cheer followed his words; the game went on merrily--seventy--eighty--ninety guilders! Higher and higher still went the bids, until the two hundred and fifty guilders were reached. The lucky man who secured the lot received quite an ovation, just as if he had drawn the first prize in the State lottery.

That set the ball a-rolling. Chairs, tables, mats, lamps, wardrobes, mirrors, pictures, all went for the same fabulous prices. At last it became a mad charge in which every one seemed bent on securing something, no matter at what cost. Long faces were drawn indeed; but it was not because the bids were too high but because the prices were wholly out of the reach of some pockets. It was in the back gallery, however, that the excitement rose to its highest pitch.

"Twelve liqueur glasses!" shouted the auctioneer. They were very ordinary little glasses--in Holland they might be worth a penny a-piece--in India they might cost perhaps five or six pence.

"Twelve liqueur glasses!" again shouted the man.

"Out of which the bitters taste remarkably good!" cried Grashuis, "I know that by experience."

"We might try some," cried a voice; "yonder in that stand I see a decanter of bitters."

A cheer followed this proposal--a servant was already busy pouring out the liqueur.

"What kind of bitters is that?"

"Maagdbitter," said a sienjo.

"Pahit prawan," translated an interpreter.

A thundering hurrah greeted that splendid attempt at translation.

"I say, Kees, you must be made interpreter--sworn interpreter!" shouted one of the bystanders.

"Here's to you; I drink your health in pahit prawan!"

"One rixdollar!" cried Grenits.

"Three! Four! Five! Six! came the bids, in rapid succession. The auctioneer could not turn his head fast enough to catch the eye of the bidders.

"Six!" at length he managed to exclaim.

"Seven! Eight!--"

"Ten!" cried Grenits.

"Ten offered," droned the auctioneer with the utmost indifference. This was not the first strange scene he had witnessed in his profession.

"Ten!" cried he, "won't any gentleman go higher than ten."

"Come, come, that is pretty fair," said a voice.

"Ten once, ten twice, ten for the third and last time!"

Bang! down came the hammer.

"An expensive set," grumbled some one in the crowd, "a hundred and twenty guilders--the bitters must be good at that price."

"Especially pahit prawan!"

"Well, give us another glass."

The last lot put up for sale--a gajoeng, that is a simple cocoa-nut vessel with a handle used for throwing water over the body in the bath, fetched five and twenty guilders.

The friends of Verstork might well congratulate each other. They had worked to some purpose. When half an hour later the clerk posted up the total receipts, the house very nearly came down with the deafening cheers.

"Nine thousand seven hundred and forty guilders!" exclaimed Verstork, when he heard the result of the sale; "why, the whole kit was not worth three thousand. Thanks, many thanks, my friends."

He shook hands warmly with van Nerekool, with Grashuis, with van Beneden and with Grenits. "You have saved me many an hour of dreadful anxiety," he whispered to them.

Eight days after, the Controller was standing, in excellent spirits, on the deck of the Tamborah which was to convey him to his new abode. Full of courage and full of hope, he took leave of the trusty friends who accompanied him to the steamer.

"Once again," he cried to them from the deck, "thanks, a thousand thanks!"

Grenits had helped him to realise as profitably as possible the proceeds of the sale, and when he reached Batavia he had sent a considerable portion of the money to his mother, recommending her to be very careful of it, as he might most probably be obliged, in consequence of his removal from Banjoe Pahit, to diminish the amount of his monthly remittances.

When the Tambora was nearly on the horizon there were still handkerchiefs waving farewell to him from the shore-boat.

Verstork still kept on deck gazing at the shore. "Fine noble fellows," he muttered as he wiped away a tear.

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