XXXVII. DISGRACEFUL OPPOSITION. TWO OPIUM COMPANIES BY THE EARS…

XXXVII. DISGRACEFUL OPPOSITION. TWO OPIUM COMPANIES BY THE EARS

Nearly the whole of Santjoemeh had been keeping festival. It was, indeed, no everyday occurrence for the son of the rich opium farmer of the district to marry the daughter of an equally wealthy disciple of Mercury. At the union of so many millions the Dutch public could not but evince the liveliest interest--and it had done so.

We said: nearly the whole of Santjoemeh; for there were some who had not thought it incumbent upon them to grace the banquet and the ball with their presence. Van Beneden, Grashuis, van Rheijn, and Grenits, had allowed their ethnological curiosity to prevail so far as to induce them to go and witness the nuptial ceremony; but nothing could persuade them to attend the subsequent festivities. They had, on the contrary, determined, while the European population was crowding within Lim Yang Bing's stately mansion in the Gang Pinggir, and the natives were swarming all around it, to pass a particularly quiet evening together at the house of their friend van Nerekool.

When they entered they found the young judge still seated at his study bending over his work by the light of a reading-lamp.

"Hallo!" cried one, "still at it?"

"Are the courts so very busy just now?" asked another.

"By Jove!" exclaimed a third, "that's what I call zeal for the service!"

"Ornithologically speaking," laughed van Beneden, "our friend Charles should be classed with the rara avis. Come, come, old fellow, this is no time for working! All Santjoemeh is astir--just hear what an infernal row is going on yonder."

"Yes," remarked Theodoor Grenits, with a scornful laugh, "they are making noise enough over it."

"My dear friends," replied van Nerekool, "the greater part of the day I have been very busy indeed; for as Leendert just now observed with more truth than he himself was aware, at the present moment we have a great deal of work to get through in the courts; but yet, when you came in, I was occupied in a very different manner."

"Would it be indiscreet to ask what made our host bend his head so anxiously over his desk?" asked Theodoor.

"Not at all, I was reading a letter I have just received from William; that is what made me lay aside my pen."

"From William Verstork?"

"How is he?"

"Is he well?"

"How is he getting on at Atjeh?"

These questions crossed one another, and were uttered, as it were, in a breath; for the five young men were warmly attached to the worthy controller.

"Yes," replied van Nerekool, "I am glad to tell you that Verstork is in perfect health, and that he is getting on uncommonly well in the military world yonder."

"Well, that's a blessing," remarked van Rheijn, who never liked soldiers, "I am glad to hear it--I don't at all want to change places with him."

"And what is his letter about, Charles?" asked van Beneden.

"His letter is a very long one," replied van Nerekool, "much too long to read to you this evening. The greater part of it, moreover, is devoted to purely private matters; and contains particulars concerning the parents of Anna van Gulpendam, which I do not think I have a right to communicate to you. He tries to cure me of my love for her, and I have no doubt that his endeavour is exceedingly well meant; but yet the contents of his letter have made me very melancholy, as they make the chasm between us appear deeper and more impassible than it seemed before.

"Where can she be?" he continued after an instant's pause--"If I only knew that then all would not be lost!"

The four friends looked at one another sadly--that letter had evidently touched a string which vibrated painfully in van Nerekool's heart.

"Come, Charles," said Grashuis, trying to rouse his friend, "you must not give way to that melancholy mood. You must try and accept the inevitable. Moreover, who can tell what the future may bring!"

"But she is gone!" cried Van Nerekool hopelessly, "she has disappeared without leaving a trace."

A strange smile passed over Edward van Rheijn's lips; but he made no direct remark.

At length he said: "Baboe Dalima also seems to have mysteriously disappeared."

Van Nerekool made an impatient gesture as one who would say: 'What is that to me?'

"I happened lately to be at Kaligaweh," continued van Rheijn, "and I chanced to meet old Setrosmito there. He tells me that Dalima started off some time ago for Karang Anjer."

"For Karang Anjer!" exclaimed van Nerekool, "and what--?"

"But from that time to this her family have had no tidings from her," continued van Rheijn.

"Have they heard nothing?" asked Charles.

"Not a single word--indeed her parents do not know whether she is alive or dead."

Van Nerekool's head sunk down despondingly on his breast. "One faint gleam of hope," he murmured, "and then dark night again!"

For a while no one spoke. At length van Beneden, who wished to lead his friend's thoughts into a different channel, broke the silence:

"Does Verstork write upon no other subject than this?"

"Oh, yes," replied Charles, who was gradually regaining his composure. "Let us go into the inner room and I will read you the most interesting portion of his letter. This is not at all the place for a comfortable chat."

Thereupon they left the study, which, with its folios and bulky law-books, did not indeed present a very sociable or cosy appearance.

"Sabieio, chairs and cigars for the gentlemen!" cried van Nerekool. When all were seated and the fragrant Manillas were lighted, he continued:

"Gentlemen, what do you say to a glass of beer?"

No very determined opposition being offered to this hospitable proposal, van Nerekool again called to his servant, "Sabieio, bring us some iced beer."

Thus all having quenched their thirst in the pleasant and cooling beverage:

"Now then gentlemen," said Charles, "I will give you the most important parts of William's letter," and he began to read as follows:

"'Do you recollect that when we sat down to dinner together after our day's hunting in the Djoerang Pringapoes, I told you of a certain recipe for pills to counteract opium, and how that I also told you what success I had already had with this medicine? Grenits, at the time, was not at all inclined to look favourably upon that communication, and took a very gloomy view of the prospect which lay before me. The words he used on that occasion have been continually ringing in my ears; and to this day I remember them as clearly as when they were spoken, he said: "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 smokers." Now, Charles, you know that although with an eye to the future of the members of my family, who, to some extent, depend upon me for support, I was, for a few moments, depressed at my friend's gloomy prognostic; yet I soon rallied, and, after a little reflection, began to look upon Grenits' words as the outcome of a passing fit of melancholy induced by our conversation, which had almost exclusively run on opium horrors and opium scandals. Indeed, Grenits himself could not have intended to paint the future in colours as dark as his words seemed to imply; for you remember that when I laughed and said: "Oh, it is not quite so bad as that, I hope," he replied with a smile, "Perhaps not; but your pills will not earn you the Netherlands' Lion."

"'Ah, no, Charles! I never aimed at any such distinction. The little good I have been able to do I have done simply for its own sake and without the least expectation of any recompense. Such ambition I have always most willingly left to others; for I know full well that seldom real merit, sometimes the directly opposite, but always a certain amount of pliability and want of back-bone, is rewarded by these outward tokens of official approbation. And the mere thought that I might so much as be suspected of belonging to those invertebrates would suffice to paralyse every effort on my part. The shaft which Theodoor thus shot at random missed its mark; yet neither he nor I could, at that time, suspect how much sarcasm lay hidden in his last words or how very much to the point had been his foregoing counsels. Now pay good heed to what I am about to tell you.

"'I had not been here very long, before I received a document from the Chief Secretary's office at Batavia. That, in itself, was no very uncommon occurrence. I have frequently had communications from that quarter when information was required on certain civil questions, such as duties and other things of that kind, about which they did not wish to trouble the Military Governor. But yet, it seemed rather strange to me that, on this occasion, I did not receive the document through the Chief of the Military Department. It was a written paper, yet not a despatch. It looked more like a circular although these are generally either printed or lithographed. Now listen to what it contained: "An attempt has been discovered at Batavia to import certain pills consisting of or mixed with opium, under the pretence that they are medicinal. The Indian Government has come to the conclusion that the pills in question must be considered as a preparation of opium, and it, therefore, forbids the importation of this so-called medicine except through its own agents, and the sale thereof excepting by the regularly licensed opium farmers and such apothecaries and chemists as are specially exempt from the provisions of the Opium Act. You are hereby requested strictly to enforce the Government's decision on this subject."

"'This precious document bore the Home Secretary's signature.

"'Here at Oleh-leh I had made attempts with the pills in question to cure the Chinese opium smokers of their fatal passion, and my efforts in their behalf had met with marked success. I had further given a couple of hundred of them to the officers of the garrison for distribution among such of their men as might need them. These gentlemen also gave me the most glowing account of the success of the medicine. The trophy of bedoedans in my study was enriched by half-a-dozen pipes; and I must confess, Charles, that as often as my eye happened to fall on those instruments of moral ruin, which are hanging there harmless on my wall as the visible tokens of victories obtained, I could not repress a feeling of self-satisfaction. Was I now to desist? Was I forbidden any longer to attempt the rescue of the infatuated wretches around me? I could not realise it--I could not believe it. Surely the Government would not refuse to hold out a helping hand to the myriads of wretched victims of opium which swarm all about India! There must be a mistake somewhere. The Government must have been misinformed and all that was needed was for somebody to open its eyes to the truth.

"'To put these pills into the hands of the opium farmer for distribution would be reducing the whole thing to the most utter absurdity and to ensure failure beforehand.

"'I therefore sat down and drew up a carefully detailed statement in which I gave the result of my own experience, the evidence of the missionaries and the favourable opinions also of the officers mentioned above. I added to my document legally attested declarations of these gentlemen as to the salutary effects of the medicine.

"'Finally, I ventured to suggest, that, in favour of these pills as a bona fide medicine, an exception might be made, and that, as prepared and sent out by the Missionary Society, they might be excluded from the regulations of the opium law.

"'My dear Charles, what was I about? Oh, yes, as an honest man I had followed the dictates of my conscience; but it was too simple-minded on my part to hope that the Government might, in the highest interests of morality, be induced to forego even the smallest scrap of its profits. I was a greenhorn indeed to sit down and pen such a document at a time when money--money--money--is the only question with the Government and money-scraping seems to be our highest national virtue; while men resolutely close their eyes to the dirty gutters out of which it is raked together.

"'Very soon after, indeed by the very next mail, I received a reply to my proposal. It ran thus: "It is not the intention of the Government to discuss the proposal contained in your letter of the --th. The pills in question must have lately found their way into other parts of the island as well as into Batavia. Ostensibly they are designed to wean the smokers from the excessive use of opium; but in reality they only serve to procure that indulgence at a much cheaper rate for those who, either from want of means or for other reasons, cannot procure the drug from the legitimate source. While you were occupying the post of controller in the district of Santjoemeh we had good reason to suspect that, in your official capacity, you were not disinclined to evade--we are willing to believe from the best motives--the Government regulations with regard to the sale of opium; and that you thus contributed to diminish the public revenue. Your last letter incontestably proves that you are pursuing the same practices now. On a public servant who entertains such views of his duty, the Government cannot look with much favour; and were it not that I am fully persuaded that you are actuated by the very best motives in pursuing your present line of conduct, and that your well-known family relations make me very loth to adopt decided measures, I would at once propose your dismissal as a man unfit for the public service. I have directed the Governor carefully to watch your proceedings and to report immediately to head-quarters the first failure of duty on your part that may come under his notice. I need hardly tell you that the State requires from its servants a very different conception of duty from that of lending a willing ear to every foolish sentiment of morbid philanthropy; and that, therefore, if you give any further cause for dissatisfaction you must not reckon upon any consideration whatever."'"

"It is disgraceful!" exclaimed Grenits as soon as van Nerekool ceased reading. "A noble-hearted fellow like William Verstork to be so shamefully treated!"

"Oh, that opium, that opium!" continued Grashuis no less indignantly than his friend, "it seems to taint the very life-blood of our nation. Has it then come to this that we are to be deprived of every means of stemming the national evil?"

"Yes, it is indeed disgraceful!" chimed in van Beneden.

"But, my friends," objected van Rheijn, "are you not rather one-sided in your view of the matter and rather too hasty in forming an opinion? May there not be some truth in what the Government alleges and might not these pills, under the pretence of being a cure, only be another means for extending the illicit traffic in opium?"

"Oh, Edward!" exclaimed van Nerekool, "how can you bring yourself to suspect William Verstork of illicit traffic?"

"And the Netherland's Missionary Society?" added Grashuis.

"Pardon me, my friends," cried van Rheijn as he passionately jumped up from his chair. "You misunderstand me entirely, I never meant to suggest anything of the kind. I am just as much convinced as any of you can be that both William Verstork and our missionaries are acting in this matter with the most perfect good faith and honour. I was not for an instant thinking of them when I spoke. But might not men without principle and without honour, under cover of these wholesome pills, introduce others made of pure opium and thus defraud the revenue?"

"Well," said Grenits doubtfully, "such a thing might perhaps come to pass."

"And is it not then right and proper," continued van Rheijn, "that the Government should guard against possible fraud? Under cover of these pills the opium plague might conceivably attain to altogether extravagant dimensions."

"Without the treasury being one penny the better for it," hastily interposed Grashuis. "So long as the revenue is kept up they are not so over squeamish in Government circles about the abuse of opium. Quite the contrary."

"And then Verstork's proposal to admit only the pills sent out by the Missionary Society was fair enough," added Grenits. "It would not be very difficult to protect and encourage the use of the medicine and at the same time guard against adulteration or fraud. But no," he continued, "that is evidently not what the Government wants. Not one poor scruple must be taken from the dose of poison which is, in a measure, forced upon the people, and every effort to mitigate the evil must, in spite of the twaddle and cant at the Hague, be sternly repressed. My friends, you all recollect our discussions on that subject. In the face of what we have heard and seen can anyone deny or doubt that opium lies as a curse upon our poor Indian possessions?"

For a few moments the young men sat silently gazing on the floor before them. Alas no! that plain fact could not be denied--all were equally convinced of its truth.

"Yes, that opium!" sighed van Beneden. "Friends, let us change our ground without, however, quitting our subject. It would be a pity to do so just now--just now that we five men are assembled here together in Santjoemeh to protest against opium, while, at the same moment, yonder, the trumpets are braying and the cannon is roaring in homage to the millions which that same opium has wrung from the people. At the present moment the pig-tailed children of the Celestial empire are gathered together in perfect harmony and concord around their Tao Peh Kong; but such is not always the case. Circumstances sometimes arise which kindle the bitterest animosities between these Chinese brethren. As I was looking through a pile of papers, not very long ago, I happened to come upon a pretty quarrel which greatly interested me and gave me a deep insight, from another point of view, into the vicious circle in which the question of opium farming revolves. We are now sitting here so cosily and quietly together that I should like to take advantage of this favourable opportunity to tell you the story. I must only beg of you that you will pay no heed either to the names, the places or the dates I may use. I have no right to incriminate the actors in my tale, some of whom are still living. On the other hand, my story would lack interest and vividness were I to speak of N or P and introduce places as X or Y. I shall therefore take the liberty of introducing fictitious names. I beg you will bear that in mind.

"In the year--let us put it at ten years ago--there existed in the capital of one of Java's Residences--supposing we say in Santjoemeh--a mighty opium company, to which we will give the name of Hok Bie. This company Hok Bie had cast a covetous eye upon the monopoly in a district adjoining to Santjoemeh, which we will call Bengawan. But this same district had also attracted the attention of a young Chinaman called Tio Siong Mo. This young man was very wealthy, although he had not as many millions at command as had the company Hok Bie.

"It would lead me too far afield," continued van Beneden, "were I to describe to you all the intrigues and plots which were set on foot, all the bribery and corruption which took place on both sides, to get possession of the coveted prize. Suffice it to say that the antagonists exerted their utmost powers; for Bengawan was a prize indeed. From the opium farmers' point of view it was the fattest district in all Java--and so it is now, unless I am much mistaken, and at present counts the greatest number of opium dens--though I hardly need add, as a corollary, that it contains the most wretched and poverty-stricken population in the island.

"At first it seemed as if the company Hok Bie would carry all before it; for it managed to cast serious doubts upon the solvency and credit of its adversary's sureties, and if they could be discredited, Tio Siong Mo would be excluded from the contest altogether.

"Tio Siong Mo, however, held firm, he fought the bribers with their own weapons; and he found means, somehow or other, to re-establish the credit of his sureties. How? You will perhaps be able to give a shrewd guess at that."

"Oh, yes, yes, go on!" cried Grenits, "that is as clear as the sun at noonday."

"Well then, that dodge having failed, the company Hok Bie began to look round for other means of attack. First it endeavoured to bribe Tio Siong Mo's sureties and to induce them to declare themselves bankrupts; but that did not succeed. Next it made an offer to its competitor of half a million of guilders in cash if he would retire from the contest. Half a million! It was a liberal bid, there was no denying that. But no! Tio Siong Mo did not waver a single instant, he flatly refused the tempting offer; for the monopoly of Bengawan was worth a much larger sum of money than that.

"On the day of the sale five competitors came forward; but three of these very soon dropped out of the bidding, and the representative of the company Hok Bie and Tio Siong Mo were left to fight out the matter between them.

"I will not weary you by describing the contest, which was carried on at one time with what seemed the wildest recklessness and at another with the most cunning circumspection. There were some very exciting passages in the battle. At length Hok Bie bid eighty thousand guilders."

"Eighty thousand?" exclaimed van Rheijn. "Why, that is not a very large sum."

"A month, a month, my dear fellow!" said van Beneden, correcting him.

"Well, a month, so be it," resumed van Rheijn; "that comes to only nine hundred and sixty thousand guilders a year. Here in Santjoemeh--!"

"For those days it was an exorbitant price," continued van Beneden, "I know all about it, and I can assure you it was an extravagantly high price."

"Well, and what happened then?" asked van Nerekool.

"The representative of Hok Bie had called out eighty thousand, thinking by that bid to disconcert and crush his opponent, for he had made a tremendous leap from sixty to eighty."

"The deuce!" cried van Rheijn, "and then?"

"Tio Siong Mo lost not an instant; but with the utmost coolness he said: 'Another thousand.'

"He spoke these words in a tone of voice which seemed to convey that he simply intended to add a thousand to whatever bid the other party might make.

"Hok Bie's representative looked blue; that last bold jump of his had brought him to the end of his tether--he was not empowered to go further. The resident who presided encouraged the competitors to go on. But no one spoke.

"At length was heard the 'third time,' accompanied by the fall of the hammer, and Tio Siong Mo had secured the monopoly. It was a large sum to pay merely for the contract; but the young Chinaman laughed in his sleeve. He knew well enough that in the dessa Bengawan he could screw double that amount out of it. But, as you will see, he reckoned without his host. The company Hok Bie was furious at having thus been worsted, and resolved to have its revenge. At the very first meeting of the directors four hundred thousand guilders were voted, not only to ensure Tio Siong Mo's fall, but even to secure him a comfortable little nook in the State prison. Two of the oldest members of the board undertook the job."

"By Jove!" cried Grenits, who was thoroughly interested in the story. As a merchant, such a piece of business was quite in his line, and he pricked his ears as a young race-horse, impatient for the start, dilates his quivering nostrils. "By Jove, I am anxious to hear how they managed that."

"They managed it very simply, indeed," continued van Beneden, "though it cost them a mint of money. But when it is a question of gratifying his passions, or of pampering his vanity your Chinaman is by no means stingy."

"No," said Grenits, "nor yet when it comes to throwing out a sprat to catch a mackerel."

"Agreed," said van Beneden; "but now let me go on, or else we shall not get to the end of the story to-night."

"Just so," assented Edward van Rheijn. "Make what haste you can; for I have also my little opium tale to tell--and something else besides that."

"Very good! August, drive ahead!" said Grenits.

"There were at that time a couple of opium districts which were contiguous to Bengawan, and which lay along the Java sea. Upon these the company Hok Bie at once flung itself, the monopoly not having as yet been granted for them."

"Yes, of course," remarked van Rheijn, "having lost the rich district of Bengawan, a couple of rather more meagre ones would form an agreeable compensation."

"Upon these," continued van Beneden, not heeding his friend's interruption, "the company Hok Bie greedily flung itself, and for the opium privilege of those two districts, it paid the sum of 40,000 guilders a month; though it was clear as day that at such a price it must incur a heavy loss."

"What then could it have been about to offer the money?" asked van Nerekool.

"The company's object was to get a large strip of the Java sea under its control."

"Oho!" exclaimed Grenits and van Rheijn in a breath--A light was beginning to dawn upon them.

"Do you fellows now begin to understand?" asked August with a broad smile. "That's a good job.

"You must know that the Residence Bengawan is bounded on the north by these two districts. The consequences of this acquisition soon began to show themselves. The coast of the Java sea lay open to the company Hok Bie, and smugglers soon began to ply diligently between that coast and Singapore. The contraband very soon found its way through the two districts to the interior, so that presently Bengawan was literally flooded with smuggled opium. To such an extent was this contraband trade carried on, that the drug was readily sold for about one half-penny, a price at which the farmer could not possibly afford to sell it.

"Then Tio Siong Mo attempted to brazen it out. He began by punctually meeting his obligations, and every month paid the contract money into the treasury. He did this, poor fellow, in the hope that the European authorities would assist him and protect him against this illicit trade which was robbing the revenue as well as himself. And what were the effects of all his representations to the Government--'Schwamm darüber'--Even where he did obtain some kind of co-operation from some chief official, he got no support whatever from the subordinates. They all, to a single man, sided with the much more powerful company Hok Bie, which never left any service unrewarded.

"These punctual payments were all very well so long as Tio Siong Mo could find the money. But, however well lined his chest might be, it was with him--as it always must be where much is going out and little or nothing coming in--a mere question of time.

"In the latter half of the second year of the contract, Tio Siong Mo was declared a bankrupt. He could not possibly cover his expenses, and by that time had fallen in arrears and owed a colossal sum to the treasury, a debt of which little or nothing was ever recovered, because, at the critical moment, his sureties had absconded to Singapore. So cleverly did these worthies dispose of their property, that they left nothing but debts behind them.

"'The Dutch Government wields a sword without mercy,' said the financial secretary; and that same Government which, by taking proper measures in its own interest as well as in the interest of their farmer, might have put a stop to smuggling on anything like a large scale, but had neglected to do so--that same Government now clapped poor Tio Siong Mo into prison. There he lingered for several years, and quite lately he has been released, it being evident that nothing was to be got out of him. We sometimes say, with regard to horses, that they who earn the corn do not always get it; and this episode I think shows that they who are punished are not always the real culprits."

"But what ultimately became of the Bengawan contract after the farmer's bankruptcy?" asked van Rheijn, curiously.

"Of course," resumed van Beneden, "the district had to be put up again after Tio Siong Mo's failure. Who were the new farmers the papers do not tell me; but, from a whining lamentation uttered by the financial secretary, in which he exhorts the judges to the utmost rigour against the luckless bankrupt, it appears that the whole thing only produced forty-one thousand guilders. Thus the State, in addition to the large sum owing by Tio Siong Mo, lost a clear sum of forty thousand guilders a month."

"That's the style!" exclaimed Grenits, "I wish such a thing as that would happen regularly, year by year, in all the districts, then some means would speedily be found to put an end to the opium traffic altogether."

"And what became of the two coast districts, which the company Hok Bie had taken?" asked van Rheijn, very anxious to get to the bottom of the story.

"What could the company make of them? they could be worked only at a loss, and, as soon as the object it had in view was obtained, it made over the contract to some other company--no doubt at considerable loss. At least Hok Bie would have no more to do with them."

"And the moral of the story is?" asked Leendert Grashuis.

"Why, simply this," said Theodoor Grenits, "that from whatever point of view you look at the opium-farming system, you are sure to catch sight of something particularly loathsome and disgusting."

"And that such a rotten system should form one of the principal sources of the Netherlands' colonial revenue!"

"Yes," assented van Beneden. "In these latter days it has indeed been raised to that dignity by men in office, into whose hands the indifference of our Dutch nation has placed unlimited power."

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XXXVIII. FURTHER FACTS ABOUT OPIUM. BIRDS-NESTING AT KARANG BOLLONG

These were most unpalatable facts for our friends to listen to. But, however painful they might be, and however offensive to the ear of a patriotic Dutchman, yet they were facts which could neither be ignored nor explained away. Very gravely and very sadly the five young men sat slowly rocking themselves in their chairs and watching the wreaths of blue smoke as they curled upwards from their manillas. Thus they passed some time in silent thought, when suddenly, in the distance were heard fresh volleys of musketry, redoubled banging of mertjons, and this noise accompanied by loud bursts of cheering repeated again and again, which, arising within the banqueting hall, was taken up by the thousands of natives who stood without waiting for the display of fireworks. That crescendo in the festive din was occasioned no doubt by Lim Yang Bing's eloquent speech in honour of Resident van Gulpendam. "Sabieio, fill the glasses!" cried van Nerekool to his servant, making an effort to shake off the gloomy thoughts which oppressed him, and which not even van Beneden's story had been able to dissipate.

For the next few minutes they all sat listening to the disturbance outside, and when at length the noise had died away, van Rheijn re-opened the conversation.

"You told us just now, my dear August, that Tio Siong Mo had found no co-operation or support among the inferior class of officials; but that these, on the contrary, sided with the more powerful company Hok Bie. Now I take it for granted that you did not talk merely at random; but that you had some sufficient grounds for saying what you did. One thing, however, is not quite clear to me, and that is whether you meant that accusation to apply to the native opium-officials or to the Europeans. You will grant me, I suppose, that the accusation is a rather serious one."

Van Beneden did not raise his eyes, he drew a deep breath. At length after an interval of a few seconds, he said:

"Yes, you are perfectly right, the charge is undoubtedly a serious one. As a lawyer I am perfectly aware of that; and you were quite right also in presuming that I did not utter it without due consideration. The question you now ask me is this: 'To whom do you intend this grave censure to apply?' I might answer with perfect truth, that I apply it to native and European officials alike. But to be absolutely candid I ought to go further and confess that, when I spoke, I was aiming specially at the European officers."

"August!" cried van Rheijn, evidently much moved at his friend's earnestness and sincerity. "May you not be taking too partial and unfair a view of the situation?"

"My dear fellow," replied van Beneden, "just listen to what I am about to tell you, and then I will leave you to judge for yourself--

"Among the mass of documents relating to this Tio Siong Mo's business, I came upon some remarks made by a very highly placed official, a man perfectly competent to form a correct opinion; and who had, in fact, been consulted on this very occasion. His remarks run thus:

"'The salaries paid to the officials who are employed in checking the trade in contraband opium are wholly insufficient; and in the discharge of their most arduous duties, these public servants receive no support at all. The consequence of this is, that hardly a single person who is properly qualified for the work will ever offer his services. In what manner, then, are those places filled? Why, in the simplest manner possible. Individuals are appointed quite at random and are then placed under the orders of some Resident or other. These poor creatures, who, as a general rule, have no very brilliant antecedents to boast of, and who know little or nothing of the opium trade, receive a salary of 150 guilders (£12 10s.) a month, and are stationed at such points as the smugglers are most likely to resort to. It follows, of course, from the nature of the case that these stations are far away from any inhabited spot, generally in the heart of some swamp or in the all but impenetrable jungle on the north coast of Java. In such localities there can be no question of a house; and some of these men have to hire a small bamboo hut at the rate of 25 or 30 guilders a month, or else they run up a kind of rough shanty at their own expense. They have no staff whatever--there being no money to provide one--and thus, on an emergency, they have to apply for help to the chiefs of the nearest dessas, and that is very much like going to the devil for confession. Moreover, the Residents compel these people to keep two horses, which animals they must purchase for themselves, and they have to pay 10 guilders a month at least for forage for each horse. If now we take into consideration deductions for widows' and orphans' fund, then these wretched creatures receive only about 102 guilders a month, out of which they must find house rent and servants' wages, leaving them, say 67 guilders to live upon, to find themselves in dress, and to keep their often numerous families. Now, the question is, how can such persons manage to live at all in even the most frugal manner? How do they manage to keep body and soul together? They have no other resource than to apply to the opium-farmer for assistance, and in him they always find a most obliging money-lender. The whole question, then, comes to this: Are not such officers forced by mere pressure of circumstances to squeeze as much out of their wretched billet as can be got out of it?'

"And thus, you see, my dear Edward, that all these men either are, or very soon get to be, under the thumb of the opium-farmers, and the consequences of such a state of things are, you must grant, inevitable. By the side of the note I read to you just now, I found a list--it was a long list--of the names of such individuals as, either for neglect of duty or for having aided and abetted the smugglers, had been dismissed the service. There were others who were mere puppets in the farmers' hands, and who could not venture on the slightest remonstrance if the farmer himself was implicated in the smuggling trade. Then there was a third--alas! the list was a very short one--of officials who undertook to perform their duties conscientiously, and who, looking upon a smuggler as a smuggler, whether he happened to be an opium-farmer or not, were determined to put down the illegal traffic whoever might be engaged in it. I regret, however, to have to add that those names very quickly disappear from the scene. The Residents soon found fault with such men--they had no tact--no management--in fact, some ground of complaint was sure to be found. And then, of course, the Government does not like to see the farmers, so long as they pay their contract money regularly into the treasury, annoyed by opposition of any kind."

"But," exclaimed Grenits, somewhat warmly, "what becomes, at that rate, of the assertion made over and over in Parliament by the Colonial Secretary, that the abuse of opium is in every possible way kept in check? As far as I can make out from your statement, the Government seems, indirectly of course, actually to protect the smuggling by the farmers, and these, equally of course, in order to dispose of their contraband, press the drug by all means, legal or illegal, upon the helpless population."

"The sum and substance of all I have told you is simply this," said van Beneden. "No man who has the slightest respect for himself can or will undertake any office for the suppression of opium smuggling, and therefore a lower class of people must be employed, and thence, you see, it becomes possible for the tricks and dodges of such companies as Hok Bie to succeed."

"By Jove!" cried van Nerekool, "that's another nice little glimpse into the charming situation which the system of opium-farming has created. Come! now we are about it, we had better exhaust the unsavoury subject as far as we can. Did you not say just now, van Rheijn, that you also had an opium tale to tell?"

"Oh, yes," replied Edward, "and something else besides that."

"Indeed!" said Grashuis; "go on then. I thought I was pretty well informed; but every moment I am making fresh discoveries."

"Now, gentlemen," said van Nerekool, "are you all furnished with cigars? Van Rheijn, we are waiting to hear you."

"I have had a letter from Murowski," began van Rheijn.

"From Murowski?" cried one.

"From our Pole?"

"From our doctor?"

"Yes, gentlemen, from our expert at the scientific opium-smoke. Now, as his letter contains very few, if any, secrets, and that moreover it is addressed to us in general, I need not follow our host's example; and I will read it to you in full."

"But, my dear fellow," said Grenits, "it is getting late, nearly nine o'clock. Is there anything in that letter about butterflies?"

"Oh, yes."

"And about beetles and snakes?"

"Oh yes, certainly."

"Then, I say! heaven help us, those entomologists are so long-winded; they don't spare you a single claw, not an antenna, not a shard!"

"Oh, you won't find it so bad as all that," laughed van Rheijn; "just listen."

"'My dear friend, in your last letter you ask me how I pass the time at Gombong. At first, I must confess, it was tedious work and everything looked very black. You know, I was rather smitten with Agatha van Bemmelen, and I have reason to flatter myself that she used not to shut her little peepers very hard when she happened to meet me at Santjoemeh. So, when I first came here, my thoughts ran entirely on her; I detested my new place, and cursed the man who had played me the scurvy trick of having me transferred. Of entomology there was no question. Two or three times I went out and tried to get some specimens, but I failed woefully. Wherever I went, in whatever direction I took my walks, there was but one picture before my eyes--the image of my Agatha's sparkling eyes and my Agatha's rosy cheeks.

"'So utterly lost was I in rapture that the rarest specimens in butterflies fluttered past my very nose without my so much as holding out my net. I gave the whole thing up in despair, and tossed all my apparatus into a corner. But, what to do with oneself at Gombong? The officers of the garrison were busy enough; but I had nothing--absolutely nothing--to occupy my time. The climate of Gombong is a wretched one--most miserably healthy, no chance of ever getting a patient here! Being a devout Catholic, I sent up a little prayer every now and then for a good epidemic, or at least some case worthy of keeping one's interest going--nothing of the kind!'"

"Well now," cried Theodoor, "did you ever hear of such a fellow, praying for an epidemic! Such a chap as that ought to be put out of the colony altogether--he is fit only for the new lunatic asylum at Buitenzorg!"

"Nonsense!" retorted van Rheijn, "does not every one pray for his daily bread? Does not our friend van Beneden here pray for a good lawsuit--and that is, perhaps, not much less serious a matter than an epidemic. But let me go on.

"'Seeing that my prayers were not heard, I sought refuge in poetry;--perhaps I might say I prayed and wrote verses alternately. I celebrated my well-beloved in alexandrines, in iambics, in pentameters, in hexameters, in odes, in lyrics, in sonnets, in stanzas, in German, in Polish--'"

"That must have sounded well!" interrupted Grashuis.

"'--In Polish, in French, nay, even in Latin!'"

"In Latin!" exclaimed Grenits, with a shout of laughter, "the fellow must have gone raving mad!"

"Just fancy the poor child receiving an ode from her adorer entitled 'Solis occasus,'--and 'Virgini Agathæ pulcherrimæ Bemmelensi dedicatus'--I should like to have seen her little phiz," cried van Beneden.

"Do stop all that nonsense," remonstrated van Rheijn, who nevertheless was laughing as heartily as the others, and when silence had been restored, he continued:

"'And Heaven only knows how much paper I might have wasted had not suddenly the news reached me that my adored Agatha was engaged, and was, indeed, on the point of being married. Then I crumpled up all my poetical effusions, and that very evening made a nice little fire of them. They were of some use in that way in keeping off the mosquitoes and other such like vermin. I invited all the officers of the garrison to a jolly good champagne supper; and, after having passed a night in which I rivalled the Seven Sleepers of holy memory--I arose next morning a new man--perfectly cured!--'"

"That Pole is a practical fellow," cried Grashuis. "I say, Charlie, you should take a leaf out of his book!"

"'Thereupon I resumed my insect hunting, and then, for the first time, it dawned upon me that the hemiptera, the diptera, the hymenoptera, the lepidoptera, the coleoptera--'"

"I say, I say!" cried Grenits, "might you not skip all these barbarous words. That a Pole like Murowski makes use of them is excusable perhaps--he knows no better; but that he should inflict them upon us!--it is unpardonable."

"Oh, well!" replied van Rheijn, "I have almost done--

"'--The coleoptera, the crustaceans are really our best and truest friends, and that they would, after all, afford me the most wholesome recreation. I happened to be in luck's way. Patients there were none, and, to make assurance doubly sure, a medical officer, and therefore a colleague of mine, had arrived here in Gombong. He had obtained three months' leave, and, in this mild and singularly equable climate, he hoped to find a cure for an incipient liver-complaint. This gentleman was willing, he was indeed quite eager, to take my place in any unforeseen emergency, if it were only to break the monotony of his existence out here. I quickly availed myself of this favourable opportunity to ask our military chief for eight days' leave to go on a trip into the Karang Bollong mountains and give myself up to my passion for entomology.

"'"By all means," said the kind-hearted captain, "by all means, you go and catch butterflies and snoutbeetles. Only see that in those wild mountain districts you don't come to grief; and, mind you, be back again in time."

"'An hour after, I had shouldered my gun, slung on my game-bag; and, with the tin box for my collection strapped to my back, I was on the war-path, my servant following with the other necessaries. From Gombong I marched through the dessas Karang djah, Ringodono and Pringtoetoel, and there I was in the heart of the mountain country. That journey I did not make in a single day; but I took my time, and spent two days in covering the ground.

"'I will not tire you with an account of my insect-hunt, that would, in fact, be casting pearls before swine.'"

"Upon my word, that is a good one!" exclaimed Grenits, laughing. "Our Pole is exquisitely polite!"

"Well," laughed van Rheijn, "he is paying you back in your own coin, you remember what you said about 'barbarous words' just now. But let me get on.

"'But yet I must tell you that my trip was very successful. I have every reason to be satisfied; for among many other rare and valuable specimens, I secured a fine Ulysses and a splendid Priamos. But what will constitute the real glory of my collection is an Atlas, a truly magnificent creature, which, with outspread wings, covers an area of nearly a foot square. I will not however dwell on these matters. I know you take no interest in them. No, no, I have a subject to write upon which will prove much more attractive to yourself and to your friends. Our experiment in opium-smoking has been haunting me ever since I witnessed it; and I have by no means forgotten the conversation we held on that occasion. What I then heard and saw has opened my eyes and my ears, and has made me very attentive whenever the opium question is mentioned. And, I must say, that I have here been brought to the very spot where I am able to glean most interesting information about the use of that drug. In my wanderings through the Karang Bollong mountains, I have been brought into contact with the gathering of the far-famed birds' nests. Whether you gentlemen are acquainted with that source of the Dutch revenue, I know not; but in order to come to the subject I wish to lay before you, that is, the abuse of opium and the encouragement the Government gives to that abuse, I must give you a short account of this most interesting gathering of birds' nests. You must, for the present at least, take my word for the truth of every syllable I write--'"

"The deuce we must!" cried Grenits, "he is rather exacting!"

"I bet we shall have a lot of learned stuff inflicted upon us. The prigs which the German Universities turn out can be pedantic to the last degree."

"No fear," replied van Rheijn, "for my part I must say that I have found in this letter, a great number of highly interesting particulars. But I must get on.

"'The Karang Bollong mountain range is, as you are probably aware, a spur of the Goenoeng Djampong which again forms the connecting link between the Midangang mountains and the Goenoeng Batoer. The bulk of these Karang Bollong mountains consists of extensive chalkbeds which form the table-land known as Goenoeng Poleng; and, on the side of the sea, these chalk-beds are surrounded by a broad band of trachyte rock which rises perpendicularly out of the Indian Ocean. In this massive wall of trachyte the ocean, with its mighty breakers rolling in from the South Pole upon Java's coast, has washed numerous holes or cavities, some of which extend to a considerable distance underground. It is in the innermost recesses of these caves that men find the nests of a certain kind of swallow which the natives call manoek lawet, and to which the Zoologists give the name of hirundo esculenta.'"

"Didn't I tell you so?" cried Grenits indignantly; "the Pole is beginning already to bring in his Latin names. Heaven only can tell what may be in store for us!"

"And what about me, then?" remarked van Rheijn. "I have had to read the whole letter! You need not trouble yourself, that Latin will come all right enough. I go on:

"'----give the name of hirundo esculenta. The nests consist of a slimy substance which is found in the stomach of the birds. These little swallows cover the spot in the rock they have selected for their nest with an extremely fine coating of this gelatinous stuff. As soon as this layer has dried and has had time to harden, they apply a second coat, which again must have time to dry before they can proceed with their building. And thus they go on gradually and layer by layer until the nest is complete. When it is finished it looks like a saucer of small diameter which has been broken in two with the line of fracture cemented to the wall of stone. Thus these little nests consist of a hardened gelatinous mass of a light yellow colour and which, when they are of superior quality, ought to be somewhat transparent.'"

"And the Chinese eat such trash as that and like it?" cried Grashuis curling his lip in disgust.

"Do let me go on," said van Rheijn.

"'When soaked in water and properly cooked these nests are looked upon by the Chinese as the rarest delicacy. A cup of broth made of that gelatinous substance represents, in their estimation, the most delicious beverage that can gratify the human palate. They ascribe to this soup rare medicinal virtues and prize it as a never-failing aphrodisiac. In my opinion this latter is the only quality which gives value to the nests.'"

"And this again is the sort of thing out of which the Dutch Government makes a revenue!" exclaimed Grenits. "It is a very lucky thing that the ingathering of these nests can only be carried out on a small scale, or else, no doubt, some means would be found to force this kind of food upon such Chinese as do not, at present, crave for it; just as the farmers do their utmost to drive the population into their infamous opium-dens."

"'The gathering of these nests,'" continued van Rheijn still reading Murowski's letter, "'takes place three times a year. The first gathering begins in the latter part of April and is called "Oedoean kesongo." The second begins in the middle of August and is called "Oedoean telor," and the third, the "Oedoean kapat," takes place in December. Now that kind of birdsnesting, my friends, is an occupation which I very willingly leave to the Javanese who make it their business. To gain the entrance of one of those caves they must clamber down the perpendicular face of the rock along ladders. The ladder, for instance, which leads to the mouth of the Djoembling cave is only 660 feet long. My heart beat high with desire to make a trip to these subterranean vaults. But--when I laid myself flat down and got my head over the edge of the rock while a couple of Javanese were holding on to my legs--when I saw that rottang ladder swinging hither and thither in the breeze sometimes clinging to the wall and then again curving inward and for a while lost to the eye. When, at a giddy depth below, I saw the huge breakers come tumbling in and forming there at the foot of the rocks a savage scene, a wild and whirling chaos of spouting water, of dazzling foam and of blinding spray. When my ear caught the hoarse thunder of their charge while I felt the very stone under me quiver with the shock--then, I must confess a feeling of sickening horror came over me; I started back involuntarily, and nothing on earth could have induced me to plant my foot on the crazy ladder which, a few moments ago, I had made up my mind to descend.

"'But how grand, how magnificent, how sublime was the spectacle! The towering waves which like a stately row of hills came moving along the intense azure blue of the Indian Ocean--that graceful curve of the billow as it neared the pumice reefs which lie at the base of the mass of trachyte--then the thundering fall of this mighty crest toppling over, as it were, into a sea of seething milk in which every drop, every foam-speck glittered in the rays of the tropical sun--that finely divided spray which hung over the watery mass and wrapped it as in a veil of transparent silver-gauze--all this, my friends, formed a spectacle which can never be effaced from my memory but will dwell there engraven as on tables of stone. At times, when a wave of unusual height came rolling in, the entrance of the caves would be completely swallowed up and hidden and the water driven into the interior would continue its perpetual work of excavation. Then, for a few moments it seemed as if the holes had disappeared. But presently, when the wave flowed back again, the water, impelled by the tremendous force of the compressed air within, would rush forth like a horizontal fountain five or six hundred feet in length, spouting and hissing and blowing with a roar which was perfectly appalling, and forming whirls and high-flowing eddies in the retreating wave.

"'No, no, no, I durst not touch that swinging ladder; but I have nevertheless made up my mind to penetrate by some other means into the interior of those mysterious cavities. The natives here tell me that when the south-east trade-wind is far from the south-coast of Java, on very calm days a flat-bottomed boat may enter the Goewah Temon, which is the name of one of the grots. The loerah of the dessa Ajo has promised me to keep a canoe in readiness for me, if I will give him notice beforehand; and, on the first favourable opportunity I mean to make the attempt. Meanwhile, however, I have had to satisfy myself with a description of this birdsnesting which I soon hope to witness in person, and this is what one of the chiefs has told me concerning it.

"'From the mouth of the caves the Javanese have stretched a couple of cables along the interior wall. The lower of these rottang-cables serves as foot-hold, the upper is grasped in one hand, while with the other hand, the man engaged in the work picks the birds' nests from the rock. When the hand cannot reach them the man detaches them by means of a long bamboo pole furnished with an iron hook, and as they fall he has to catch them in a small hand net. As you may suppose, the taking of these swallows' nests is an extremely perilous undertaking. First to clamber down that ladder to an extreme depth along the perpendicular face of the rock and dangling over that boiling sea, then to penetrate into these holes into which the ocean thrusts its waves. In rough weather the work has to be stopped altogether in many of the caves; and, not unfrequently, it happens that the ropes are washed away and the poor fellows who trust to them are dashed to pieces or miserably drowned. You will ask then, perhaps, how can people be found to venture on so hazardous an undertaking? You know, of course, that no race on earth is more attached to its native soil than the Javanese. That characteristic is found in this part of the island also. There is perhaps no wilder and more ungrateful soil in this world than this region in the Karang Bollong mountains. Nothing, or next to nothing, can be made out of agriculture. The tiny rice-fields one meets with here and there on the mountain slopes, are not worth mentioning; and, as far as tradition reaches, the scanty population of this part of Java has always supported itself and does still support itself, by collecting these edible nests.

"'Whether they fared better or worse before the Dutch government appropriated that source of income to itself, I have not been able to ascertain. But one thing is certain, that the pay these poor wretches receive from the Government is something worse than pitiful. I have now lying before me a statement drawn up by an official in this part of the country, from which I gather that, for every sack of 80 nests delivered into the Government stores, the man who collects them gets a sum of 15--let us put it down in words--of fifteen cents (about 3d.)!'"

"Aye but," said Grashuis, "before we follow the grumblings of our Pole any further, it would be well to know what is the commercial value of those 80 nests."

"As a merchant," remarked Grenits, "I can at once supply you with the information you require. The Chinese are always ready to give five thousand guilders for a pikol of nests, and, since one hundred of them weigh about one kattie and the pikol contains one hundred katties, our Government receives four hundred guilders, while it sends the poor devil of a native about his business with 15 cents! By Heaven it is a crying shame!"

"But has not the Government other expenses to meet?" asked Grashuis.

"Allow me to continue," said van Rheijn, "I promise you an answer to your question, August."

"All right, drive ahead!"

"'It is true,'" continued van Rheijn, "'that when a man has good luck he may deliver 12 bags.'"

"That comes to one guilder eighty cents (about 3s.)," cried Grenits! "and then he must be in luck! God help the poor fellow!"

"Now do not be constantly interrupting me!" cried Edward impatiently.

"'One must be a Javanese to encounter such perils for so miserable a pittance; for, to realize that magnificent sum, the poor devil must make several trips to the cave which has been assigned to him. The shortest gathering always lasts three weeks, and the longest sometimes goes on for more than two months. Now, how can the native be induced, for such utterly inadequate pay, to face this perpetual and deadly risk? I fancy I can see that question hovering on your lips, and if you will bear with me for a few moments I will tell you. In the first place the Government has secured the co-operation of the native chiefs. You know what a dependent race are the Javanese, how they trust implicitly to their chiefs, and these men are indeed paid on a much more liberal scale. Where the actual worker receives his three shillings, the loerah, for instance, is paid twenty guilders (£1 13s. 4d.), besides a number of perquisites of all kinds, and he receives this, mind you, merely for superintending the work, as it is called. Yet it is probable that the respect and obedience of even a Javanese would not endure such miserably inadequate pay, and therefore the Government has devised another means of binding these poor creatures hand and foot, and that means, my dear friends, is--opium!

"'I will not trouble you with all the superstitious fads which the Government not only tolerates but pays for in the matter of this gathering of birds' nests; nor will I speak of the idolatrous worship of Njahi Ratoe Segoro Kidoel which precedes every expedition, and which also is paid for out of the public purse. I will merely point out to you the use which is made of opium, the pernicious effect of which, when taken in anything like excessive quantities, you have yourselves been able to observe.

"'Well then, let me tell you that in everything which has any relation whatever to this gathering of nests the current coin is opium.

"'If the wajang and toppeng-players have to be sent for, five petty chiefs and four dessa-folk are despatched to fetch them. For this piece of service each of the former receives one kedawang, and each of the latter half a kedawang of opium, the kedawang being equivalent to about two matas. For the cleansing and clearing of the Goewah Bollong loerahs and other chiefs are specially appointed, the former receiving each two and the latter one kedawang of opium. The wajang and toppeng-players receive on their arrival, sixteen kedawangs apiece and four kedawangs for sadjen or offering, and, on their departure, they are paid with a further present of sixteen kedawangs of opium.

"'In the Goewah Bollong a feast is always held before the commencement of the expeditions; and for this feast, a certain number of bullocks and one goat have to be killed. For the slaughtering of each of these animals eight kedawangs of opium are paid. For each quarter of the slaughtered animals which must be brought in and carried by one petty chief and two dessa men, the chief is paid one, and the men have half a kedawang of opium apiece. When the ladders are brought to the edge of the cliff, a ceremony which requires two chiefs and two men, the former receive one kedawang, and the latter half a kedawang of opium.

"'But I have not finished yet, the abuse of opium goes much further than that. My friends, I beg you have patience and read on.

"'At the festival itself the following quantities are served out: to each loerah and each petty chief two kedawangs, and to every guest one kedawang. I have now lying before me a paper from which the following words are an extract:

"'"It is impossible to give, with any exactness, the number of persons present at these customary festivals; but seeing that every guest has his portion of opium served out to him, it may be taken for granted that no one who has the slightest right to be present, fails to avail himself of it. At the opening of every cave eight kedawangs are served out, and when the ropes are fastened another eight kedawangs are paid."

"'During the ingathering of the nests--but how shall I get through it all? Let me try to be brief. The loerah of Goewah Jedeh gets 76, the loerah of Goewah Dahar gets 64, the one at Goewah Mandoe Loro 44, and the other loerahs receive 40 kedawangs apiece. The toekans of these caves receive each 54, the bekels 24, and the sekeps each 12 kedawangs of opium.

"'But even this is not all. The dessas in which the ladders are made are paid in opium, the persons appointed to mount guard over the nests when they are gathered receive their pay in opium. The transmission of the produce, the carrying to and fro of orders, the return of the ladders, the guarding of the caves--everything--everything--is paid with the same fatal drug. In one word, the entire thing is simply an opium debauch on a colossal scale; and it is the surest means of accustoming the people to the use of the deadly narcotic. But--why should I further dilate upon this matter, my letter is already, I fear, too long and I have still to communicate to you certain things which I know will be of the greatest interest to you.'"

"Is there much more of the letter?" asked Grashuis.

"Yes, I have some pages more to read," replied van Rheijn.

"You have given us quite a budget already," remarked van Beneden.

"True; but it is extremely interesting," said Grenits.

"By Jove, those Poles know how to make use of their eyes."

"He has learnt that lesson from the Germans, you know they steal with their eyes."

"True, witness the Franco-German war in which the Teutons proved that they knew more about France than the French authorities themselves."

"Don't you think," asked van Rheijn, "we had better get on as fast as we can? The most interesting part of the letter is yet to come."

These last words he spoke with a strange look at Charles van Nerekool.

"Had we not better have a drink first?" suggested Grenits.

"By Jove, yes!" cried van Rheijn, "my throat is as dry as a rasp."

"Sabieio!" cried van Nerekool, "fill the glasses."

While the servant performed that duty the gentlemen lit a fresh cigar, rocked themselves for a while in their rocking-chairs and then were all attention.

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

XXXIX. MUROWSKI ON THE TRACK.--AN OPIUM SALE AT SANTJOEMEH

"Now then," said van Rheijn, "let us proceed.

"'Two days before my leave had expired and that, therefore, I should have to return to my garrison duties at Gombong, I started very early in the morning before the break of day from the dessa Ajo in which I had passed the night. My intention was to explore the Western slopes of the Goenoeng Poleng, and I expected that this trip would bring a rich harvest to my collection. And, my friends, I must tell you that my hopes were amply--very amply--realised. For I secured an Arjuna, a large and most lovely butterfly with pointed golden-green wings fringed with a deep velvety band of black. It was a rare specimen I can assure you, and absolutely perfect and uninjured. The day before, one of the dessa-people at Ajo had brought me a Cymbium Diadema, a fine brown shell spotted with white, which the man assured me, he had picked up on the sands in one of the creeks on the South coast of the island of Noesa Kambangan. I purchased it from the fellow for a mere song.

"'But enough of this: I return to my subject.

"'As I told you, I had started some time before the break of day and had got some distance from the dessa Ajo when the dawn began to tinge the entire mountain range of Karang Bollong. My path was not a very pleasant one to travel along; for it took me right across all the ravines which run down from the heights. These are funnel-shaped, exceedingly tortuous; and twisting and turning in all directions they run down to the plain at the foot of the range, in which the Kali Djetis flows onward to the sea.

"'As gradually I mounted higher and higher, the panorama stretched out at my feet became more and more imposing. The fresh invigorating morning air and the truly magnificent scenery about me, filled me with delight; and every now and then I actually forgot my passion for butterflies wholly absorbed as I was in the glories which lay around me.

"'At length I gained a ridge between two pretty deep ravines, and I was stopping for a few moments to regain my breath after the exertion of climbing the steep ascent up which my path had led me. In both these ravines little brooks were gurgling. They were mere threads of water hurrying down the Goenoeng Poleng, and it was refreshing to look upon them as they frisked and danced and foamed along their strange zig-zag course. From the eminence on which I then stood, they looked like ribbons of silver tape unconsciously displaying their beauty to the morning air. The ravine which I had just left was strewn with big blocks of trachyte flung about in confusion, great masses of ruin detached, no doubt, from the central range. Such was the case also in the other ravine into which I was preparing to descend; but between the boulders and scanty shrubs, my eye suddenly caught the attap-roof of a Javanese house. From the place where I stood, I could catch sight only of the front verandah; but yet that small hut, situated there in the wild and lonely mountain range and at some distance from the dessa Ajo, arrested my attention. Can it be some misanthropist, I thought, who is living there so far away from the haunts of men? Through an open window, my eye could penetrate one of the rooms in the hut, and I thought I saw a snow-white bed-curtain waving to and fro under the influence of the morning breeze; I fancied also that I could distinguish a chair. Now all this greatly puzzled me; for your Javanese, as a rule, does not indulge in such luxuries, and, if he makes use of a curtain at all, he generally selects one of some gaudily coloured material.'"

Van Rheijn paused for a moment or two to take a drink of beer, and in doing so he cast a penetrating look upon Charles van Nerekool. The latter was sitting in his chair listlessly rocking himself up and down, and had very much the appearance of a man who listens but whose thoughts are travelling elsewhere.

"You are not listening to me, Charles," he cried! At this abrupt address van Nerekool started up out of his reverie.

"I?" he asked in confusion.

"Now, you see!" continued van Rheijn with a laugh, "while I am wasting my breath to get to the end of Murowski's budget, our friend the judge there is sitting in a brown study, his thoughts wandering heaven knows where, but certainly nowhere near the dessa Ajo. But wait a bit, you fellows, mark my words, you will see a change soon. The part most interesting to him is just coming. Now listen."

Van Nerekool shook his head and smiled incredulously, he puffed hard at his cigar, sat up straight in his chair and disposed himself to listen with concentrated attention.

Van Rheijn went on reading:

"'But, while I was thus standing, gazing and pondering, I heard far, far away beneath my feet, a noise of laughing, giggling and playing--in fact, the silvery tones of two girls' voices.

"'I stretched out my neck and cautiously peered about to find out, if possible, from whence those pleasant sounds proceeded; but it was in vain, I could discover nothing. I noticed, however, that the foaming brook beneath me took a very sharp turn, and that close to its side grew a large Wariengien tree, whose massive foliage defied every inquisitive look; while, at the same time, a pretty little clump of shrubs shut out the view on either side. Meanwhile, the tittering and laughing went on, mingled every now and then with a playful little shriek, accompanied by the sound of plunging and splashing of water. Then it dawned upon me that yonder in that clear mountain stream, some girls were amusing themselves with bathing. What shall I say in excuse of my indiscretion? I suppose the best, in fact the only excuse I can offer, is that a man is neither a stock nor a stone. My road, moreover, led straight to the attractive spot; and thus, without, I fear, giving much thought to what I was doing, I found myself on the way to emulate Actaeon in his fatal curiosity, never in the least expecting to spy out a Diana.

"'So I cautiously clambered down the slopes, taking, as you may suppose, the most particular care not to make the least noise which might disturb the bathing nymphs. For a little while my path ran down directly to the Wariengien tree, which overshadowed a considerable area. If the course of the narrow path had only continued in that direction a little longer it must have brought me to the very foot of the tree. But, suddenly, I came upon a large rock, and there the road ran to the left and seemed to shorten the way by leading straight to another bend in the creek. Most probably this led to some ford, for I could see the path on the other side of the brook, running up the side of the ravine. Now, what was I to do? I ought, like a good boy, to have followed the path no doubt; but my curiosity was stimulated by the splashing and laughing, which now seemed much nearer to me than before. I confess, the temptation was too great, and I left the path in order to get up to the Wariengien tree. Good luck seemed to favour me. From the rock which barred the road I could see a gentle slope thickly overgrown with bushes. In these numberless butterflies were fluttering about; but, will you believe me? I never so much as gave them a look or a thought I had left my tin box and my net behind at the foot of the rock so as to be quite free in my movements. Like some Dajak or some Alfoer of Papua I stole along from bush to bush.'"

The young men burst out into a loud shout of laughter.

"I can see our Pole," laughed Grenits, "sneaking along like an Alfoer, in something like Adam's costume, up to the bathers."

"Yes," said van Rheijn, laughing as heartily as the others, "with only an ewah round his loins.

"But pray let me go on, we are coming to the most interesting and most important part. Are you listening to me, Charles?"

"I am not losing a single syllable," said the latter, moving somewhat uneasily in his chair. "Do make haste."

"'--From bush to bush, and I got as near as I possibly could. At length I found myself standing before a kind of hedge which grew around the Wariengien, and made it impossible for me to advance any further. The magnificent wild-fig tree stood on the edge of an oval water-basin, which might have been washed out by the power of the stream, or might have been hewn by the hand of man out of the mass of gray trachyte rock. The pool itself appeared to be about 25 yards long, and perhaps 15 yards broad, and the heavy crown of the Wariengien cast a pleasant shadow right over it. It was fed from the brook of which, in fact, it formed a part, and the water, though deep, was so bright and clear that even the smallest pebbles could be seen distinctly at the bottom. These details, you must know, have only lately occurred to me; at that moment I had no time to pay any particular attention to them, something very different was engrossing my thoughts. For, in the centre of the pool, of which from my position I could survey about twenty feet, were swimming and splashing and frisking about two female forms. How shall I describe to you what I saw and what I felt without too painfully affecting one of your friends.'"

Here Edward stole another glance at his friend van Nerekool.

"Go on, go on!" cried the latter almost passionately as he caught the look.

"'Two female forms. Both had on the usual bathing dress of Javanese women, that is the sarong. You know how prettily, and how modestly too, the Indian beauties can coquet with that rather scanty garment--how they draw it up and fasten it above the bosom; and, I presume, you can imagine how such a garment, when wet through and closely clinging to the limbs, rather serves to heighten than to veil the charms it is intended to conceal. That, however, I will leave to your fertile imaginations. Both girls were extremely beautiful, though each had her own style of beauty. One of them was decidedly a Javanese, the nose slightly turned up, the round cheeks and somewhat full lips, in fact the entire face, bore unmistakably the stamp of her nationality. For a few moments she stood still in a somewhat shallow part of the pool, and busied herself in readjusting her sarong, which had got rather loose in swimming. As she did so I could at once perceive that the young woman I had before me was in what is called an interesting condition.'"

Once again van Rheijn paused for an instant and shot a quick glance at van Nerekool.

The latter sat in his chair literally panting with excitement, and taking in every word with the most eager attention.

"Go on! Go on!" he murmured.

"'The other was altogether of much slimmer build. Her bust, which the wet sarong could hardly conceal, showed that it had been in contact with the European corset, and her features proclaimed her of totally different race from her companion. Had the skin not been brown I should at once have pronounced her to be a European, especially as her hair, though jet-black, was silky, and fell around her as a mantle, and, while she was swimming, floated on the water behind in a mass of wavy curls. Then, I thought, I could trace something of Arabian origin in the fair creature I saw moving in the crystal stream. Arabian! why that could not be; for at the very same moment I thought I recognised her very features.

"'My friends, I am utterly unable to describe to you the lovely scene I was just then gazing upon. No pen is eloquent enough for that. It would need the brush of some great artist to catch the glow and colour of that entrancing view.

"'Quite unconscious that, in that lonely pool far away from any human dwelling, and in the recesses of such a wilderness, any indiscreet eye was watching them--the two girls, like real water nymphs, were gaily disporting themselves. They pursued one another, trying to duck each other in the stream, while they had the greatest trouble to prevent their sarongs from getting loose and falling down. That game lasted a considerable time, it seemed as if the pretty creatures could not make up their mind to leave the cool refreshing stream. At length the slimmer of the two girls said: "Come, baboe, it is time to go home."'"

"Ha, ha, it was Malay they were speaking and not Javanese at all!" remarked Grashuis.

"No, no," replied Edward, glancing uneasily at van Nerekool, "it was not Javanese; but let me read on, we are now coming to the dénouement.

"'The fair swimmer got to the side of the pool and sat down on the rocky bank allowing her little feet to paddle in the water. She presently began to wring out her mass of hair and, as she was sitting with her face turned away from me, from the position I occupied I could only catch a glimpse of part of her back as she lifted up her arms to tie up her hair. Was it the light in my eyes? Was it all a mere delusion? Did my eyes play me false altogether? I began to think that her back was not nearly so dark as her face, her neck and her hands. Puzzled beyond measure I was determined to get a better view. I grasped a branch of one of the shrubs which were around me, I hoisted myself up and bent forward as far as I could! Alas!--no, rather let me say thank God!--in making that movement I slipped. A big lump of stone, dislodged, no doubt, by the motion of my feet, went rolling down the slope and fell down plump into the water to the right of and close beside the fair bather. It was just by the merest chance that I did not tumble in myself, what a fright the poor little dear would have been in! It was bad enough as it was. At the splash made by the stone the girl uttered a cry of terror, she suddenly moved to the left and started to fly. In doing so her sarong must have hitched in some projecting stone, and--

"'By all the gods, she was a pure-bred European! Face, arms, hands, neck, shoulders, all were brown; but for the rest she was lily-white--that beautiful creamy white which is so characteristic of brunettes.

"'Then it all became clear to me--Miss van Gulpendam--she who had so mysteriously disappeared--that face with which I felt all along I was familiar--Oh, there was no possibility of a mistake, I knew her well enough now in spite of the dark colouring of her skin. Though the girls could not see me behind my thick hedge, yet they were much startled and frightened. They at once snatched up their clothes and fled up the path which leads to the hut I had seen on the ridge, and as they ran I could overhear the Javanese saying to her companion: "Don't be alarmed, Nana, there is no person there." Probably she meant to say that the stone was loosened by the movement of some animal or perhaps she ascribed it to mere chance. In spite, however, of this, both of them hurried out of sight as fast as they could, and soon the sheltering roof of their little hut received them.

"'It was then only that I began to feel how unpardonable had been my indiscretion and, to spare the young ladies' feelings as much as I could, I remained for a long time concealed. When I thought they must have given up looking out, I sneaked as quietly as possible, under cover of the bushes, to the bottom of the ravine, and there a bend in the path soon enabled me to get away unperceived. Such, my friends, is my adventure in the Karang Bollong mountains. I have sent you this news as soon as possible for I know how happy my communication will make one of you. I will not venture to give you any counsel as to what you ought to do under the circumstances; but I place myself entirely at your disposal and shall at any time be ready to point out the little hut to you.'"

"Anna!--Anna found!" exclaimed van Nerekool, jumping up out of his chair and striding impatiently up and down the inner gallery.

"What do you intend to do?" asked van Beneden.

"What I intend to do? Why, to-morrow morning at daybreak I am off--I will--!"

"My dear fellow," said Grashuis, restraining, as well as he could, his friend's impatience and excitement, "now, pray, do not be in a hurry."

"How can you talk such nonsense!" cried van Nerekool--"Do not be in a hurry!--And what if meanwhile she should again disappear?"

"I do not think," remarked van Rheijn, "that there is much danger of that. I suppose the girls have by this time got over their fright--indeed there was not much to terrify them--and as they have probably not seen any one since of whom they can have the least suspicion, they will come to the conclusion that they were scared by a false alarm. I do not think they will for a moment think of leaving that lonely spot."

"My dear friends," said van Beneden, "I believe the very best thing we can do at present is to go to bed. It is now late, and we ought to have time to think this matter over. At all events, Charles must certainly not think of starting to-morrow morning; by doing so he would spoil his whole career. A man in his position must not run away from his post as a deserter."

"Yes," said Charles, "you fellows had better go to bed. I shall sit down at once and write for leave of absence."

"That's right," quoth Theodoor Grenits. "In that case we shall have a few days for quiet reflection. And now, Charles, my boy, I have no need to ask for leave, I intend to go with you on your journey; here's my hand upon it!"

The young men hereupon shook hands and each went to his own lodging, while, in the distance, the sounds of revelry at the Chinaman's house were still resounding.

Van Nerekool applied for leave of absence; but found that it took some time to obtain it. Mr. Greveland was just at that time so very busy that he could not undertake to grant Charles' request, however eagerly this latter might press for it. The President, however, forwarded van Nerekool's application to the authorities at Batavia. Thus Charles was forced for some days to wait with such patience as he could command.

Meanwhile, however, events were taking place which exercise some influence on the course of our story and which we will now proceed to narrate.

Not long after the nuptials between Lim Ho and pretty and wealthy Ngow Ming Nio had been solemnized, the great day came round on which the opium monopoly for the years 18--, 18--, and 18-- had to be assigned. This was a most important event for the whole official world, and one which, in the well known financial position of matters at home, was especially significant to those who were in authority at Batavia and Santjoemeh. For, if the Colonial Secretary could but show a goodly number of millions as the produce of the sale of opium-contracts, why then he and his colleagues might feel themselves pretty safe in their seats. They thought, and not without excellent reason, that if they could but manage to increase the revenue they would, by that means, gain infinite credit in the Parliament at home. It need hardly be said therefore that every nerve was strained to obtain so desirable a result.

Resident van Gulpendam had, as our readers know, another, that is a private, reason for making every exertion; and he left no stone unturned to induce as many as he possibly could to come and bid for the lucrative contract. His agents were out on all sides trying to get the rival companies to enter into competition, and in these efforts his handsome wife was of the greatest assistance to him. The proud woman had set her heart and soul upon seeing her husband's breast adorned with the "bertes knabbeldat."

Now that the existing contracts were fast running out, and that by the last day of December, the opium-monopolies for the different districts had to be again put up to the highest bidder, the greatest activity prevailed. The strictest precautions against smuggling were taken along the entire coast-line--against such smuggling, be it understood, as was not carried on by the farmers themselves. Bandoelans and policemen were everywhere on the alert, and were left to do pretty much as they pleased in their visitations of suspected houses, or in their search for opium on the persons of the unhappy creatures to whom they might owe a grudge. Especially did those suffer from their insolence, who either did not make use of opium at all, or who used it in strict moderation. The success which these stringent measures obtained was rapid and complete. The sale of opium by the farmers rose in an extraordinary manner now that contraband wares could no longer be obtained, and the retail price of the pernicious drug rose in proportion.

"If we could only have that kind of thing always going on!" cried Lim Ho who, when the conversation turned upon opium, could not always keep a discreet tongue in his head. But Lim Yang Bing, who was older and wiser, and who, above all things, feared competition at the coming sales, merely shrugged his shoulders. He would have been glad enough to say nothing about this sudden increase in his daily receipts; but, with so many opium-dens under his control, secrecy was well-nigh impossible.

But Resident van Gulpendam did more than this. He, through his agents, cleverly spread the report that the Government intended largely to increase the number of opium-licenses in his Residence. This had its effect also, and presently a feverish excitement began to show itself in the rival Chinese camps.

On the important day of the sale, a brand-new flag of extraordinary dimensions, the finest and brightest that could be found, was waving in the morning breeze from the flag-staff in front of the residential mansion. On that day the whole body of oppassers had been mustered. They numbered over twenty men, all dressed in new uniforms with bright yellow belts furbished up as smartly as possible. The native soldiers also on sentry were in full-dress, and they marched up and down before the steps of the Residence with a solemnity and gravity of demeanour, which plainly showed that they were impressed with a full consciousness of the responsibilities which rested upon them.

To add to the brilliancy of the display, Resident van Gulpendam had summoned to Santjoemeh a couple of assistant residents and a couple of controllers from the adjoining districts. These gentlemen, together with all the native chiefs then present in the capital, assembled towards ten o'clock in the front gallery. All were, of course, in full official dress with sprigs of orange and oak-leaves embroidered in silver on their collars. The orange, an emblem of purity; the oak, the type of manly vigour and independence. They had on white cashmere trousers with a broad gold stripe, and the regulation dress-sword by their sides.

Presently the Chinese contingent also began to arrive, all dressed in clean white jackets and black trousers monstrously wide in the legs, their heads carefully shaven and polished, while the long scalp-lock which forms the tail was treated with the greatest care, plaited skilfully and with almost mathematical exactness, and interwoven with red, blue, and white silk cord.

At first only a few idlers appeared strolling in merely out of curiosity to have a look at the proceedings. These were succeeded by other more wealthy men, the representatives of the various companies, who might be expected to enter into the competition. Last of all Lim Yang Bing and his son Lim Ho drove up and, as they stepped out of their carriage, they carefully scrutinized their countrymen present. For some time the Celestials mingled with the official personages, and formed a group in which salutations and hand-shakings bore witness to the cordiality existing between them. But when the soldier on guard struck one blow upon the gong which stood beside his sentry-box, and thus announced that it was half-past ten, Resident van Gulpendam accompanied by his private secretary--both in full-dress--entered the front gallery, while Mrs. van Gulpendam, on the arm of van Rheijn, appeared at one of the open doors.

The chiefs present all made a low bow, the sentries presented arms, the oppassers formed a line by the pajoeng stand, in which a gorgeous emblem of dignity was conspicuous.

The officials present now advanced in a body to pay their homage to the representative of the Governor-General who, in his turn, represents the King of the Netherlands in these far-away Asiatic regions.

Next, the Chinamen came forward to perform a similar duty, and after this the two groups of Europeans and Chinamen remained apart. A few of the latter, foremost among them Lim Yang Bing and Lim Ho, walked up to Laurentia, and gave her a courteous greeting. She was all affability and cordially shook hands with the pair as well as with some others, who were standing near; and then she invited all the babahs to come in and have something to drink.

"It is so frightfully hot just now in Santjoemeh!" she protested.

A faint smile passed over the Chinamen's wan and yellow features; they bowed their thanks as they cast significant looks at one another. Then they followed their fair guide through the inner gallery into the pandoppo. A large table stood there bearing a number of trays full of champagne glasses, while, under the table, might be seen little tubs of ice, in which the bottles with their silvered corks were neatly arranged.

"Open the champagne!" cried Laurentia to three or four attendants who stood by.

The corks popped, and in a few moments all the babahs, rich and poor, were standing glass in hand eager to be allowed the honour of touching glasses with the Njonja-Resident.

As a rule, your Chinaman is a great stickler for etiquette; and, on any ordinary occasion, they would no doubt have sipped their wine leisurely, with half-closed eyes as they have seen Europeans do; but now they behaved in a widely different manner. For fair Laurentia had informed them that, when they had the honour of drinking with a njonja, the glass must be emptied at a single draught.

"The gentlemen call that ad fundum," remarked the Chinese major.

"Just so, babah," replied Laurentia as she gave him a sly nudge.

In an instant every cup was drained.

"Fill the glasses!" she cried; and from that moment Mrs. van Gulpendam kept the waiters busy. On one pretext or another, she took care that the glasses were kept filled and that their contents were duly and speedily disposed of.

Meanwhile the Resident himself had been engaged in conversation with his friends and subordinates in the front gallery.

"What has become of our babahs?" he asked presently. "Come, gentlemen, I do not think we shall have cause to repent if we go and look them up. It is frightfully hot here. Don't you think so?"

Thus saying and wiping the perspiration from his brow with his cambric handkerchief, he led the way into the interior of the house followed by his embroidered and lace-covered staff.

"Ah, I thought as much!" he cried, as he entered the pandoppo, and then to the servants: "Look sharp, give the gentlemen glasses."

As this was going on, Laurentia slipped away unobserved leaving the lords of the creation to enjoy themselves in their own fashion.

The Resident whispered a few words to Kwee Siong Liem, one of the wealthiest Chinamen in Santjoemeh, and this latter, during the brief conversation, strove to cast furtive glances at Lim Yang Bing.

"I shall go as high as I possibly can, kandjeng toean," said the babah; "but I fear--"

"You need not be afraid," whispered van Gulpendam.

"Aye, but, kandjeng toean, the bidding will run up too high!"

"Don't forget, babah, that there are eight additional licenses specified in the contract."

"That's all very well, kandjeng toean; but--"

However, the kandjeng toean did not stay to listen to the Chinaman's objection. He stepped forward, took off his cocked hat, raised the glass which a servant had put into his hand and said:

"Here's success to the sale!" The sentiment drew forth cheers from the assembled Celestials on whom the generous wine of Veuve Clicquot was beginning to have an exhilarating effect.

"To the health of the kandjeng toean!" cried the assistant resident of police.

"To the health of the Chinese major!" shouted another and so it went on. To all these toasts ample justice was done. The little slanting eyes of the Celestials were really beginning to twinkle right merrily.

At length the clock struck eleven and the clear metallic sound rang quivering through the apartment.

"Now, gentlemen!" cried the Resident, "to business! But first allow me to inform those present here who may not happen to be successful in this competition, that in a few days the monopoly for the district of Bengawan will be put up to auction; and that, a couple of days after that again, another valuable contract will be offered for sale. You see, therefore, that there are rich, very rich profits awaiting many of you."

After having thus spoken, the Resident led the way into the inner gallery followed by the entire company. In this room stood a large table with a white marble top on which were scattered about a number of official papers and documents. At the head of this table van Gulpendam took up his position surrounded by his staff; and opposite him stood the crowd of Chinamen, the table separating the two groups from one another. On the wall of the room hung a very fine picture, a life-size, half-length portrait of King William III., and this picture formed the centre, as it were, of the two groups of Europeans and Asiatics.

"The secretary will now proceed to read out the conditions of the opium contract which we are about to dispose of," said the Resident very solemnly.

The official thus alluded to began at once, in the usual monotonous and almost unintelligible drone, to mumble a series of articles which he seemed to have by heart. Indeed, the whole thing was a mere formality. Those who had come prepared to bid for this Government contract were perfectly familiar with every word that paper contained. At the preamble, "In the name of the King," every head bowed deeply. One article, in which mention was made of the fact that the new opium farmer would have the privilege of opening a number of stores in addition to those specified in the former contract, the secretary took care to read out with an amount of distinctness and emphasis which could not fail to arrest the attention of all interested parties.

When this formality was ended, the Resident said: "The sum bid for the former contract which is now about to expire was twelve hundred and thirty-two thousand guilders-- Who will make a higher bid?"

"Twelve hundred and thirty five!" cried a voice.

"Twelve hundred and forty thousand!" said another.

"Twelve hundred and fifty!" was heard in a corner.

"Twelve hundred and sixty!"

There was a pause of a few seconds.

"Twelve hundred and sixty is offered," quietly repeated van Gulpendam.

"Thirteen hundred thousand!" exclaimed Kwee Siong Liem who stood at one side of the table.

Lim Yang Bing had not yet spoken a word; but now he looked up, gave one inquiring look at his rival and cried:

"Fourteen hundred thousand!"

"Fifteen!"

The real battle had begun.

"Sixteen hundred thousand!" was the opium farmer's ready reply.

Once again a short pause ensued.

"It is hot to-day!" whispered a voice.

The Resident cast a look at one of his oppassers and the man immediately left the room. A few instants later three or four servants hurried in bearing trays full of glasses in which the deliciously iced champagne was foaming and glittering. The Chinamen eagerly took them--it was so very very hot!

"Sixteen hundred thousand guilders is offered!" cried Mr. van Gulpendam.

At that moment Lim Yang Bing's opponent seized upon two of the glasses and, in his feverish excitement, he gulped down their contents.

"Sixteen hundred and twenty-five!" he cried.

"Seventeen hundred thousand!" retorted the opium farmer with great composure.

Another pause, which was broken only by the heavy breathing of the excited crowd and the clinking of the glasses, which under the able superintendence of Laurentia, who stood behind a side-door watching the scene, were continually being replenished by the waiters.

"Seventeen hundred thousand!" repeated the Resident.

"Seventeen hundred and twenty!" cried Lim Yang Bing's rival.

"Eighteen hundred thousand!" answered the farmer.

Another glass of the seductive beverage was required before a higher bid was made.

"Eighteen hundred and twenty thousand!" at length gasped Kwee Siong Liem huskily, as if he were losing his voice altogether.

"Nineteen hundred thousand!" cried Lim Yang Bing.

His rival was beginning to waver, yet he mustered up courage to mutter in an almost inaudible whisper:

"Nineteen hundred and twenty-five thousand!"

"Two millions!" exclaimed Lim Yang Bing triumphantly.

A dead silence ensued. After that knock-down blow one might have heard a pin drop. It was evident that the opposition was crushed. Perhaps Kwee Siong Liem might have made another attempt; but the members of his company pulled him forcibly back and prevented him from rashly uttering another word.

"Two millions are bid," said the Resident. "Allow me once again to draw the attention of the company to the fact that several additional licenses will be granted."

But it was of no avail. The servants--poor fellows--kept rushing about filling up the glasses; but the wine seemed to have lost its power.

"Two millions once!

"Two millions--twice. Will anyone bid higher? Two millions--for the third time!"

Bang! down came the hammer.

"Subject to the approval of the Dutch Government," said the Resident impressively, "I declare this opium contract to be assigned to Lim Yang Bing!"

At these words all the officials crowded round their chief to wish him joy on his brilliant success; while most of the Chinamen pressed around Lim Yang Bing to congratulate him and shake hands with him.

Laurentia took care that another round of champagne should set the seal on the bargain. There was, of course, a great deal of excitement for some time, and much enthusiasm was displayed; but whether any one present bestowed even a passing thought upon the poor unhappy dessa-people, out of whose scanty means and enfeebled frames this enormous sum was to be wrung--that we cannot undertake to affirm.

Yes, there was one man who did think of them; and that man was van Rheijn.

He looked sadly up at the portrait of the king as he asked himself whether it could really be his royal will that such things should go on among his subjects. Alas, the dumb canvas could not answer, and the picture of the sovereign gazed down quietly upon the noisy crowd.

Scarcely had the Resident got rid of his visitors before he rushed into his study, and soon returned with beaming countenance, bearing in his hand two telegrams, each couched in precisely similar terms.

"Result of opium-sale at Santjoemeh--two millions. Van Gulpendam."

One dispatch was destined for Batavia, the other was for the Hague.

When the oppasser whom he sent to the telegraph office had disappeared, van Gulpendam looked around him with the utmost satisfaction and complacency. As his eye fell upon the Dutch flag, which spread its gay colours to the breeze, he fancied that those folds pointed to the North-West--towards home.

"Aye," he muttered to himself, "from that quarter my reward must come."

Turning round as he said these words, he saw Laurentia standing at his elbow. He gave her one penetrating look:

"You here yet?" asked he.

But without replying, she grasped his arm, drew him with gentle violence into the inner room, and there, when safe from every prying look, she clasped him in her strong white arms to her breast.

"Gulpie!" she cried, "Gulpie, my darling! you have surpassed yourself!"

"Yes," said he, with assumed modesty, "yes, I have piloted that frigate pretty cleverly, though I say so myself. Now, I hope they will not be ungrateful at the Hague!"

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XL. THE "VIRTUS NOBILITAT." ANNA AND DALIMA. A TELEGRAM

Oh no, the people at the Hague were not at all ungrateful. Eight days had not elapsed before the telegraph had flashed across the ocean the news, that it had been the pleasure of H. M. the king to confer upon his trusty servant van Gulpendam the order of the Netherlands' Lion. By the next mail the particulars arrived in Java, and it then became known that immediately after the receipt of the telegram announcing the result of the opium-sale at Santjoemeh, a special council of Ministers was called. At this meeting the Colonial Secretary, elated to the verge of excitement, had drawn special attention to the conspicuous merit of Resident van Gulpendam, and had dwelt upon the great financial advantages which would accrue to the State if all the other residents were encouraged to emulate his example. He reminded his colleagues that the revenue derived from the coffee-culture was fast dwindling away and threatened soon to become a thing of the past; and that, therefore, opium was in the future to be looked upon as the chief means for keeping afloat the ship of the State. That it was for this reason a matter of the utmost importance to strive and raise the revenues, derived from that source, by all possible means, as indeed he had always shown himself zealous to do from the day that the king had entrusted the affairs of the colonies to his hands. Knowing perfectly well that he had nothing new to say, yet the minister purposely left something unsaid. He took care not to tell his colleagues, and the nation, that, with anything like judicious management, the coffee culture would have continued as profitable as ever it was; but that, by gross neglect and swindling on the part of the officials who had the management of it, that source of revenue had been well-nigh destroyed. He further omitted to let them know, that the culture of coffee was a means of spreading prosperity and contentment among the native population; whereas the encouragement of opium was a public disgrace and a national curse.

Upon these subjects the Colonial Secretary did not touch; and thus his colleagues unanimously applauded his speech and supported his application for the Netherlands' Lion, an application to which, being a constitutional monarch, King William III. could not refuse his sanction.

Some few there were, no doubt, who shook their heads dubiously as the news of this honourable distinction reached Santjoemeh. But yet, when the newspapers, in their boldest type, conveyed to the people the happy tidings, almost all Santjoemeh was beside itself for joy. Cards, letters, telegrams of congratulation came pouring in on all sides, not only from Java; but also from friends in Holland.

The van Gulpendams received visits innumerable, and even those who did not join in the universal chorus of rapture, yet found it difficult to refrain from giving some outward show of satisfaction. Such want of courtesy might very easily have been ascribed to envy.

But these were not the only demonstrations of the public joy. Fêtes, dinner parties, balls were given to celebrate the memorable event. The Regent of Santjoemeh led the way by giving a splendid banquet in honour of the newly made knight; and his example was speedily followed by the Government officials, by the members of the Club "Concordia," by the Chinese major, &c. &c.

As a grand final to this round of festivities, a state ball was given at the Residence, at which, it is needless to say, that all Santjoemeh was expected to be present, as indeed it was.

On these festive occasions, toasts were drunk, speeches were made, congratulatory odes were recited--and all this to glorify the man whose breast was now decorated with the "virtus nobilitat." Fair Laurentia, with that fine tact, which, in woman, is almost an instinct, had tried to persuade her husband to appear in public with the very tiniest cross suspended from the narrowest possible bit of blue and orange ribbon. This would undoubtedly have been in good taste; but the Resident would have none of it. He sent at once to Batavia for a cross about as big as an ordinary saucer, and he suspended it from a ribbon of proportionate width. "When you do hang out a flag," said he to his wife, "men must be able to see it a mile off and you must let it blow out bravely." That was his view of the matter, and no argument had been of any avail against this nautical aphorism.

To tell the truth, the man was mighty proud of himself and hugely enjoyed all the fuss that was made about him. His satisfaction would indeed have been perfect, had not certain uneasy rumours begun to spread among the public. It was whispered, that among the native population, the feeling of contentment of which the Resident was constantly making mention in his despatches, was not by any means so perfect as he tried to represent it. Rumours were abroad of secret gatherings and even of conspiracies far more alarming than the casual assembling of robber bands. It was a curious thing that a certain paper in Batavia, alluding to these secret risings in the residence of Santjoemeh, said that a Holy War was in preparation, and gave this information on trustworthy authority. This paper, which had thus ventured to disturb the serenity of the authorities, was treated in the most summary manner, its plant was confiscated, its offices closed, its editor banished; all this to prove, of course, that there was no disturbance whatever, but that the press only was dangerous.

But yet, some very plain hints were conveyed to Resident van Gulpendam that it would be well for him to do his utmost to prove that the situation was really as satisfactory as he represented it to be, and that the unpleasant rumours were nothing more than idle gossip.

Accordingly, van Gulpendam had, during the festive week, made some excursions into the parts which were said to be disaffected; but he had found the most profound quiet everywhere. At the suggestion of the European officials, the native chiefs had not failed to wait on the kandjeng toean to offer him their very sincere congratulations on the distinction with which it had been the king's pleasure to honour him.

Nothing could be better. Van Gulpendam was in the highest possible spirits, he had a kind word for all, he courteously acknowledged every profession of good will, whether it came from European or native; and exhorted every one to continue in these pleasant paths of peace.

But yet, amidst all this chorus of jubilation, one jarring note was heard. It came from a well-known European settler, who owned a large sugar-plantation and factory, situated on the extreme limits of the residence of Santjoemeh. This gentleman was most positive in his assertion, that clandestine meetings and assemblies were, now and then, held in a wood close by his property. He had his information from sources which, he thought, were absolutely trustworthy; and he further declared that he was acquainted even with the names of a couple of the ringleaders. He could not help looking upon these secret meetings as suspicious, even though perhaps they might not be immediately dangerous.

"And may I beg you to tell me what are those names?" said Mr. van Gulpendam sarcastically.

"I know only two of them," was the reply; "they must be father and son, for they are Pak Ardjan and Ardjan; the latter, I am told, is a bold and determined fellow, and both seem to belong to the dessa Kaligaweh in the district of Banjoe Pahit."

At the mention of these names, the Resident felt that he turned pale. He pulled out his handkerchief to wipe the perspiration from his face and to hide his evident confusion.

"It is oppressively hot!" cried he, in a faint tone of voice.

A glass of iced water was handed to him, and soon he regained his composure. Determined to remove the impression which his momentary confusion might have made, he continued:

"Pooh, pooh! Those Kaligaweh fellows have crossed the sea long ago. Depend upon it they won't show their noses on Dutch territory again. I know for a fact that they were quite lately seen at Singapore. There can be no doubt about that."

"Well, Resident," replied the sugar-planter in a serious tone, "I must tell you that I do not feel at all safe. You know, of course, that here in India the outlying settlers always are the first victims of these native plots; and that if such a rising as I apprehend were to break out, all Europeans would be ruthlessly massacred. My grounds," he continued, "lie far away, and, in case of a sudden outbreak, it would take two days at least for either police or military to reach me. I shall therefore esteem it a great favour if you will grant me some kind of protection. Send me a few policemen whom I can trust, I will see to the arming of the men."

"Policemen! my dear sir. What are you talking about? What would be the use of them?" asked the Resident with a compassionate smile; for he had by this time completely regained his self-possession. "You are creating fanciful dangers. It is, in fact, absurd to talk in this manner."

"I know what I know," rejoined the sugar-factor, "and I say without any hesitation, that the reports which have reached me do not appear to me at all fanciful or incredible."

"All right!" said van Gulpendam carelessly.

"You must excuse me, Resident," insisted the sugar-planter, "but I think that if you were living with your family in that lonely spot you would not talk in quite such an easy way."

Although our friend van Gulpendam was not precisely the stuff that heroes are made of, yet he was not by any means a coward. He felt, moreover, perfectly well that the moment had arrived to payer de sa personne. What might be said at Batavia should it be suspected that he felt the slightest distrust or fear?

"All nonsense!" cried he in the same sarcastic and careless manner. "Come now, my dear sir, to prove to you how certain I am that there is nothing wrong, I invite myself and my wife to go and stay with you for a fortnight on your plantation. I know you keep a pretty good galley, do you accept my offer?"

"With the greatest pleasure in the world, Resident," eagerly cried the planter.

He felt sure that the Resident of the district would take care to come under a sufficient escort of police.

"Very well, then," replied van Gulpendam; "as soon as ever these festivities are over at Santjoemeh, I will let you know; and then you may get a couple of rooms ready for us."

"And how many oppassers do you intend to bring?"

"None at all! a couple of my servants, and that is all. I intend to show you that I have the fullest confidence in the state of affairs, and that I am under no apprehension whatever. Now that is agreed upon, eh?"

Just outside, close under the verandah in which this conversation was taking place, a couple of sentries were walking up and down as a guard of honour to the kandjeng toean. If any one could but have watched one of these fellows, he must have noticed that the sentry marched up and down in such a manner as always to keep as close as possible to the speakers. He must have observed also, that the man was listening to every word that was said; and that his eyes wore a most dangerous and sinister expression. At the last sentence spoken by the Resident a gleam of satisfaction seemed to overspread the native soldier's face and, had he received a classical education, no doubt the man would have muttered to himself: "Deus quem vult perdere prius dementat."

As soon as van Gulpendam returned to Santjoemeh, he gave it out far and wide that both his wife and himself were tired out by this round of festivities, that they needed rest and had made up their minds to go and enjoy a fortnight's peace and quietness at the factory "Soeka maniesan."

Two days later they started. Laurentia took only her maid, and van Gulpendam a couple of body-servants; but, on the box, a single oppasser was seated beside the coachman. His duty was to hold aloft the golden pajoeng in token that the Resident toean was seated within.

That same day Charles van Nerekool and Theodoor Grenits also started for Gombong, intending from thence, in company with Murowski, to go and surprise Anna van Gulpendam in her lonely retreat. The two carriages crossed as they left the town of Santjoemeh. The one over which the pajoeng was displayed travelling in an eastern direction, while the other took the road to the south.

After nonna Anna and baboe Dalima had been so thoroughly frightened at their bathing place, they no longer ventured to go alone to the spot. They thought--indeed by this time they felt sure--that the stone which so unexpectedly had splashed down by Anna's side, had been detached from the rock above by the tread of some animal--of some wild boar perhaps or some stray goat. But for all that the fright had suggested the possibility of a surprise. Anna, therefore, had persuaded an old Javanese woman to come and take up her abode with them in the little hut. She would accompany them to the bathing place and mount guard while the young girls were disporting themselves in the water, and would thus be able to give them timely warning of the approach of any possible intruder.

There was another advantage gained by taking this nènèh into their service; for they could now leave to her certain necessary and menial duties which would leave them more time to spend at the loom or to work in the painting room. The harder they worked the faster the money came in, for the kahins and the slendangs which they wove, and the sarongs they painted, were in great request. In fact they generally had more orders on hand than they could manage to execute. The result was that the inmates of the hut began to find themselves in somewhat easy circumstances, and--was it perhaps owing to this fact, or was it because no one could look upon the two pretty girls without being attracted by them?--At all events this much is certain that when, on rare occasions, they appeared in the dessa Ajo, where they had no fear of being recognised, the young men of the village would cast many a tender look upon them--sometimes even a kindly word was whispered as they passed.

All this the girls mightily enjoyed, and they had many a hearty laugh over the love-lorn looks of the village swains. One day Dalima merrily said to her young mistress:

"If they only knew that they were casting sheeps' eyes at a resident's daughter, wouldn't they fly back in terror?"

"Hush, Dalima, do not mention such a thing again," said Anna very seriously. "You ought to know that I dislike any such allusions. I am no longer a resident's daughter!"

But, when she perceived that her scolding tone of voice really grieved her companion, she continued with a pleasant smile:

"As if the young men of Ajo ever gave me a look!"

"But, Nana," asked Dalima, "whom do they look at then?"

"They have evidently taken a fancy to one of us," replied Anna, "but it is certainly not to me; I can see that plainly enough. All those smiles and sweet little whispers are for you, Dalima."

"How can you talk such nonsense!" said Dalima half-crossly.

"I am only telling you the truth, Dalima."

"Have you ever noticed Kjahi Wangsa, Nana? He has no eyes but for you."

"No, no, Dalima, for you."

"No, for you, Nana!"

And so the girls would run on almost daily, and on such occasions it would have been hard to say who had the last word.

One day, as they were thus merrily talking, Anna said to her friend: "What if it were the Kjahi who gave us that fright the other day?"

"What do you mean, Nana?"

"I mean that it might have been that booby watching us."

"There is not the least fear of that," replied Dalima, "he would never have dared to do such a thing. Not one of the young fellows are bold enough for that--he, least of all."

"Not much boldness required for that," laughed Anna, "to play the spy on two young girls!"

"Well, I tell you, he would not have dared to do it. But you need not trouble yourself, there was no one there at all. You know how long we kept looking about and, though we had a view of the path for a long way to the right and left, we saw not a single soul."

"Yet," rejoined Anna, "it seems to me a very mysterious thing."

"If there were anybody there at all," continued Dalima, "it must have been a white man."

"A white man, Dalima!"

"Yes, it is now so long ago that I do not mind telling you all about it. A few days earlier it would only have made you nervous. The evening before we were frightened by the fall of that stone, a white man arrived at Ajo, and passed the night in the loerah's house."

"Dalima!" cried Anna, in dismay, "who was he?"

"I can't tell you, Nana. I have tried hard enough to find out; but I have discovered nothing further than that he busied himself with butterfly catching. Pah!"

We may mention here that the natives of Java are, as a rule, afraid of butterflies. They fancy that the dust from their wings produces violent itching and even leprosy. Hence Dalima's exclamation of disgust.

"Did you see him, Dalima?" continued Anna, "did he see you?"

"Well, no, Nana, I did not. In fact next morning he started before daybreak. The last that was seen of him was at Pringtoetoel, he was then going in an easterly direction."

"Why did you not tell me this at once?" asked Anna.

"Why should I have done so? It would only have disturbed you for nothing. What was the use of troubling you to no purpose?"

For a few moments the girls spoke not a word.

Dalima, who was beginning to fear that Anna was really displeased, at length broke the silence and said:

"You are not angry with me, Nana?"

"Angry? no, Dalima."

"What makes you look so serious then?"

"I wish we could move to some other place," sighed Anna.

"Move? why?" cried Dalima.

"Yes, move away, further into the mountain, where the country is wilder and more lonely. Yonder close by the birds-nest grots. I wish I could retreat into one of those caves!"

"What are you thinking about, Nana?" cried Dalima, growing seriously alarmed at her friend's words.

"Oh, I have some kind of presentiment that Charles is on my track," sighed Anna.

"He ought to have been here before this," remarked the baboe with something very like scorn in her voice. "A Javanese," she continued, "would have found you out long ago."

"How about Ardjan then?" asked Anna.

"Ardjan!" cried Dalima sadly, "Ardjan is a convict, he has run away, Allah only knows where he is and what he is about. Moreover, I am no longer his betrothed. To him I am nothing more than a poor fallen girl!"

Both again were silent for some time, each absorbed in her own thoughts. Anna was sorry that she had touched so sensitive a chord; but it was Dalima who continued:

"But even if it were so, if the young judge really were on your track--"

"Oh! don't speak so," cried Anna, "the very thought fills me with terror. If I could think that possible I would start off at once."

"But what can you have against him?" persisted the baboe.

"No more of this, Dalima!"

"Have you ceased to love him then? Have you cast him out of your heart?"

"Don't speak so!" cried Anna in the greatest excitement; "not love him? Oh! if that were true! Cast him out of my heart! Not a day, not an hour, not a minute passes without my thinking of him!"

"Well then," continued the simple Javanese girl, "why be so cruel?"

"Be silent, Dalima!"

"Can you not feel how wretched you are making him, Nana?"

"Oh! I pray you, pray do not say another word. Never, never can I be his--no--nor any other man's wife."

Dalima looked up at her with a puzzled expression. It would not be easy perhaps to say exactly what was passing in her mind. On her face there was a look of astonishment mingled with vexation; in her eyes one might read:

"What funny whims those white folk have! How miserable they make their lives!"

After a little while she was about to renew the conversation, she was in the act of opening her mouth to do so, when, just at that moment, the nènèh entered the gallery where the two girls were sitting. She had been down to the dessa to make some purchases, and now came in to give an account of what she had bought and of the money she had spent. Her entry created a diversion; but, when the old woman began to open her budget of news, she caused the greatest consternation. She told the girls that three Europeans had arrived at the dessa and had taken up their quarters in the loerah's house.

"Three Europeans?" cried Anna, pale with terror.

"Yes, Nana," replied the nènèh, who, thinking that she was speaking to a countrywoman of her own, always followed Dalima's example and addressed the Resident's daughter as "Nana."

"Did you see them, nèh?" asked Dalima.

"No," said the old woman.

"Could you find out what business they have in the village?"

"Some say one thing, some another," was the reply. "I have heard it said that they are railway people who are out on a shooting expedition. I think it very likely, for they have guns with them. Another man told me they are after snakes. Well they can catch enough of them here. As I was coming along just now I saw a deadly snake. Luckily I caught sight of the beast or else I might have trodden on it, and then it would have been all up with me. A third report is that the gentlemen have come to visit the birds-nest caves."

"Did you hear anything else?"

"No, Nana; but why do you look so strange? There is nothing whatever to be frightened at--those white men never hurt anybody. Look--there they are--coming up the path!"

Anna gave one look in the direction to which the nènèh pointed. She uttered a shriek and catching up a slendang which she flung over her head she rushed from the house. Dalima, who also had recognised van Nerekool among the party, followed her mistress and both flew as fast as their feet would carry them up the pathway which ran in the opposite direction to the south of the Poleng range. The three men could see two female forms leaving the hut and rushing up the slope over against them.

"There she goes!" exclaimed Murowski.

"Anna! Anna!" cried van Nerekool in heartrending accents; but it was in vain. That moment the two girls disappeared in a sudden bend of the mountain path.

And now, before coming to the closing scene of our story, we must here cast another look backward.

Van Nerekool and Grenits had started, as we heard just now, in a carriage from Santjoemeh on their way to Wonosobo. From thence they had pursued their journey on horseback.

They had no time, they had no inclination, to admire the beauty of the sublime scenery through which they passed. Whenever Grenits tried to rouse his companion and awaken in him some interest in the glories that surrounded them, the latter might cast a furtive glance around, but it was only to cry immediately after:

"Let us get on, Theodoor, let us get on!"

Before setting out on their journey, they had telegraphed to Murowski, and they found that medical officer quite ready to accompany them. His colleague was still staying at Gombong and our Pole therefore found but little difficulty in getting his leave of absence prolonged for four or five days.

The travellers, however, did not arrive at Gombong until pretty late in the day. They were tired out with their long ride and felt that they must put off further operations to the morrow. Of that compulsory delay they made the best use they could by calling upon the commandant of the place to pay their respects to him.

"If you three are going on the campaign!" exclaimed the kind-hearted soldier, "I advise the butterflies and the beetles to keep a pretty sharp look-out. There will be slaughter on the hills to-morrow. I hope you have a good supply of corks and pins for the poor prisoners. However, I wish you success."

But while they sat chatting with the commandant and with his wife and enjoying a cool glass of beer in the verandah, a servant brought in a telegram. It was addressed to Murowski. He took it from the man.

"Will you allow me?" said he, looking towards the lady of the house.

"Of course, of course," said she, "no ceremony required for telegrams. Open it at once; perhaps it is about some patient. I only hope it will not interfere with your expedition."

Murowski tore open the envelope and glanced at the signature.

"It is from van Rheijn," said he to his friends-- "Great God!" he continued, "what have we here?"

"What is the matter? What is it?" exclaimed all in a breath.

"Tell van Nerekool," he read, "that Resident van Gulpendam and his wife have been murdered by a band of ketjoes. Further particulars by letter!"

For some seconds all present sat dumb with amazement and horror. Then van Nerekool sprang to his feet, he snatched the telegram from Murowski's hand, and held it up to the light of the lamp. He rubbed his eyes as if he could not trust his senses:

"Aye!" he exclaimed at length--"true, too true!"

"Is Mr. van Nerekool related to those poor people?" asked the captain's wife, who was struck by the ghastly pallor of the young judge's face.

"Pardon me, madam," said Grenits, "we happened to leave Santjoemeh at the same time as the family van Gulpendam. The mere thought of so terrible a murder perpetrated on friends, whom we but lately left in the full glow of health and spirits, fills us with horror."

The lady nodded assent. "It is indeed terrible!" she murmured.

"My friends," said van Nerekool, turning to Murowski and Grenits, "I fear our expedition will have to be deferred for a few hours. Under these terrible circumstances I feel it my duty to go at once and see Mrs. Steenvlak. How far is it from here to Karang Anjer, captain?"

"About six pals, Mr. van Nerekool," replied the soldier.

"Is it as much as that? Could you manage to get me a horse?"

"My own horse is at your disposal," said the captain. "What do you intend to do?"

"I must at once ride off to Karang Anjer. It is now about seven o'clock. Before eight I can be there. To-morrow morning before daybreak I shall be off again, and at six I hope to be back here to resume our journey to Karang Bollong. You need not fear, captain, I shall see that your horse is well cared for."

"I am not at all afraid of that," replied the captain. "He will find an excellent stable at the Steenvlaks." Then he rose and went to give the necessary orders to get the horse saddled.

"Miss van Gulpendam was staying: with the Steenvlaks--" said the lady of the house, her curiosity thoroughly aroused at this sudden resolution on the part of van Nerekool.

"You are right, madam" replied Murowski. "You see it is very probable that Mr. Steenvlak may know where the young lady is to be found, and we might then break the sad news gently to her."

Meanwhile Grenits had been asking van Nerekool what he intended to do.

"She cannot now refuse to give me a few words to Anna," was his reply. "In such terrible circumstances a true friend's advice may be of the greatest value. Do you not approve of my plan?"

Theodoor merely nodded assent while he warmly pressed his friend's hand.

Ten minutes later van Nerekool was in the saddle and was galloping along the road to Karang Anjer. When he arrived there he found the Steenvlaks had already been informed of the terrible event; for the Assistant Resident also had received a telegram from Santjoemeh.

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XLI. THE OUTLAWS AT SOEKA MANIESAN. FEARFUL RETRIBUTION

Yes! the terrible news was true--it was but too true--!

When the van Gulpendams arrived at Soeka maniesan, the proprietor of that sugar-factory could not help admitting that lately all symptoms of disturbance had disappeared. He had caused the woods, in which the supposed seditious meetings were held, to be carefully watched; but he had not been able to discover in them a single human being. Thus, he had come to the conclusion, that either his former information had been altogether false, or else that the mutinous spirits had removed to some other part of the country.

Resident van Gulpendam, on his arrival, summoned the Assistant Resident of the district of which Soeka maniesan was an outlying station, and he also called before him the Regent and the Wedonos of the place; but he could not extract anything out of them which might awaken so much as a suspicion of danger.

Very much the other way! All these authorities declared that the most profound calm and content prevailed throughout the district, though the Regent was fain to admit that there was a great deal of poverty and distress about.

"Indeed!" said the Resident; "and what may be the cause of this sad state of things, Radhen Adipattie?"

The Javanese chief shook his head dubiously, he did not at all like answering that question.

As he stood there hesitating, van Gulpendam asked:

"Do the landowners pay the labourers reasonably well?"

"Oh, yes, kandjeng toean."

"Perhaps the rice harvest has failed or has not, this season, produced as much as usual?"

"No, no, kandjeng toean, the harvest has been especially good and abundant this year. The men have brought home many bundles of rice to the common barn."

"What then may be the cause of the distress you speak of, Radhen Adipattie?" asked the Resident.

"I do not know," replied the Javanese chief with a sigh.

The truth was, that he knew it well enough; but that he did not dare to speak out. He knew equally well that if he told the whole truth he would incur the displeasure of the Resident. He knew that the barns were empty. The harvest had been plentiful indeed; but very little of the crop had found its way to the barns.

The fact is, that the Javanese is a mere grown-up child. He had simply squandered away his produce while it was yet standing unripe in the fields. To lay his hands upon a little ready cash, he had sold his rice, long before it was cut, to the Chinese money-lenders. And the money thus obtained, at a ruinous sacrifice of course, had speedily found its way to the opium-den, to the gambling-booth and to the pawn-shop. It had been swallowed up by that august Trinity which is the chief source of Dutch revenue. No, no! the Regent was too prudent a man to put his thoughts into words, he cast a look of awe upon the big cross which glittered on the Resident's breast and, with another sigh, he said again:

"I cannot tell, kandjeng toean."

The Resident was perfectly satisfied with the result of his investigation, and declared that he would occupy no other rooms than those in the outbuildings. He professed himself quite contented with the ordinary visitors' quarters.

"But, Resident," persisted the proprietor, "your apartments in the house are all ready for you."

"My worthy friend," said van Gulpendam, "I won't hear of any such thing. I intend to prove to you that I am perfectly satisfied as to the state of the country, and, in the out-buildings I shall sleep as securely and as soundly as you in your house."

From this resolution no arguments could move him. And, indeed, it seemed that he was perfectly right. The reports which came in from all quarters were so reassuring, that the owner of the factory Soeka maniesan himself was beginning to incline to the opinion that he must have been deceived.

The first night which the Resident and his wife passed in their apartments, was as quiet as any night could possibly be, and they enjoyed the most delightful rest.

The next day was spent in a minute survey of the sugar-factory although it was rather late in the season, and the yearly campaign was about to close. In the afternoon they took a pleasant walk, in the course of which both Mr. and Mrs. van Gulpendam were delighted at the very great respect which was paid them by every class of natives they happened to meet. Not that such homage was strange to them, quite the contrary; for, while he was only a controller, van Gulpendam had exacted that every native whom he encountered on the way should squat down and make a respectful sembah, and that every woman should turn away her face, which is the usual way of showing deference. But here, all these things were done by the natives with such evident signs of deep humility--the country people were evidently so overawed at the sight of their august visitors--that both the Resident and Laurentia were delighted at so much submission. No, no, in these parts there could be not the smallest ground for apprehension; van Gulpendam thought he knew quite enough of the native character to make sure of that. The evening also was passed most pleasantly. The owner of Soeka maniesan had invited the principal families of the neighbourhood to meet the Resident; and these had, of course, eagerly, accepted the invitation. The gentlemen, and some of the ladies too, sat down to a quiet game at cards, and those who did not play, passed the time pleasantly enough with music and social conversation.

If some remnants of uneasiness could yet have lingered in the Resident's mind, the placid landscape which lay stretched out before him must have dissipated all such vague apprehensions. The moon stood high in the heavens and shed her calm quiet light over the scene. A cool breeze was rustling in the leaves of the splendid trees by which the entire building was surrounded. In fact, everything breathed the most profound peace, that serene quiet which makes tropical nights above all things delicious. Thus the evening passed in quiet enjoyment, and the hour of midnight had struck before the carriages came rumbling up to take the visitors home.

When the guests had taken their departure, and the inmates of the house were preparing to retire to rest, one of the overseers came in and reported that some fellow had been seen sneaking about behind the garden hedge.

"Some thief, probably," said the man carelessly, as if such a thing was a not at all unusual occurrence.

"Come," said the proprietor, "let us go and have a look round." As he said these words, he took down his gun, and offered the Resident a weapon of the same description. Van Gulpendam however, with a wave of his hand, declined to take it.

The two gentlemen, accompanied by the overseer, walked out into the grounds; while the ladies retired to their bedrooms.

As we have already said, the weather was beautifully warm and clear.

The two European gentlemen strolled about but could discover nothing to breed suspicion. The cool night-air induced them somewhat to extend their walk. They got outside the grounds and entered the fields of sugar-cane which adjoined the property, in which the canes had already been partially gathered. The cane which had been cut had been carried away to the factory; but a considerable part of the field was still occupied by the tall stems awaiting the hand of the reaper. Here and there in the field were big heaps of dry leaves which had been stripped from the cane and were destined presently to be carried to the factory to serve as fuel. The proprietor of Soeka maniesan was a thoroughly practical sugar manufacturer, a man who knew all the ins and outs of his trade; and Mr. van Gulpendam, who, while he occupied inferior positions in the interior of the island, had been brought much into contact with that industry, prided himself upon being pretty well up in the subject also. Thus between these two experts, the conversation never once flagged. Followed at a respectful distance by the overseer, the gentlemen strolled leisurely along discussing the various kinds of cane which were grown on the plantation. Van Gulpendam would have it, that the light yellow cane contained the greatest amount of saccharine matter, while the other declared, quite as positively, that his long experience had taught him that the dark brown cane was the more profitable to grow.

Both gentlemen stuck to their opinion, and the discussion was growing somewhat lively; when--suddenly--a yell was heard, and a number of men with blackened faces and armed with clubs, sprang up from behind one of the heaps of leaves and made a rush straight at the two Europeans. Startled at this sudden apparition, the Resident and his host took to flight; but they had time to run only a very few paces, before the nimble-footed Javanese had caught up the proprietor of the factory and felled him to the ground with a single blow, before he could so much as get his gun up to his shoulder. The Resident they did not overtake until he had got within the grounds; but, instead of striking at him, the men seized him, flung him down to the ground and securely bound him. What had meanwhile become of the overseer was a mystery. Very likely he had thrown himself down and was crouching behind a heap of leaves; or, perhaps, he was hiding behind some bushes. As van Gulpendam was being bound, he could see a dozen of the men rushing off in the direction of the wing in which was situated his wife's bedroom. He would have cried out for help; but a powerful hand drove into his mouth a gag made of an old rag and prevented him from uttering a sound. He could see that the attacking party first attempted to open the door; but, finding it locked and fast bolted, dashed it from its hinges with their clubs. Then the whole party rushed in and cries of terror arose from the interior--then, suddenly, came one terrible shriek of agony--and all was still again--.

This had taken place so rapidly, that the din made by the battering in of the door only startled some inmates of the house and the men who, during the night, had to attend to the steam-engines in the factory. Long before anyone could come to the rescue, the attacking party had returned to their comrades, who mounted guard over van Gulpendam. Then, one of them without attempting to disguise his voice, said:

"Come, make haste, let us get along, the horses are waiting for us in the cane-field."

"Is the lady dead?" asked one of the men as coolly as possible.

"Dead!" was the reply, in a voice which trembled with revengeful passion.

"Come, pick up that white pig, or else all the factory men will be upon us and I shall have to kris the dog; that would be a pity."

At the words, a couple of bamboo poles were thrust under the arms and legs of poor van Gulpendam.

"I am the kandjeng toean Resident!" he tried to say. Whether the words were understood or not is doubtful; but the only result of the effort was a furious blow in the mouth which drove the foul gag further home.

"March!" said the leader. Four Javanese thereupon took up the bamboo poles on their shoulders and trotted off with their burden. The sufferer groaned with the intense pain caused by the jolting; but his lamentations were not heard, or if they were, no one paid the slightest heed to his distress. Close outside the factory grounds stood half-a-dozen horses saddled and all ready to start. Upon one of these van Gulpendam was tightly strapped, then some of the men mounted the other animals and the troop was ready to move on.

"To the 'djaga monjet!'" cried one of the horsemen to those whom he left behind.

"Yes, yes!" eagerly cried the others.

As soon as the mounted men had disappeared with their prisoner, the party which was left behind set fire to the sugar-canes. The reedy stems burned fiercely and soon the dreadful roar of the flames was mingled with the sharp crackling of the canes. Under cover of these flames and of the smoke, the party were enabled to make good their escape; and it was not until then that the big gong of the factory began to sound the alarm.

While this seizure was taking place at Soeka maniesan, another surprise of the same kind was being carried out with equal success in another quarter.

About six pals from the town of Santjoemeh there stood a quaint looking building, hidden away very pleasantly amid charming scenery in the bends of the rising ground. Had the house been built in anything like Swiss or Italian style, it might have been called a chalet or a villa; but the order of its architecture was so distinctly Mongolian that no mistake could be made as to its origin. It was, in fact, a Chinese pavilion which lately had become the property of Lim Ho the son of the opium factor at Santjoemeh. If anyone had fondly hoped that, after his marriage, our babah would have settled down and become somewhat less irregular in his habits, a single peep into the interior of that pavilion must have dispersed all such pleasant illusions. That small building, situated there in so charming and lonely a spot was, in fact, nothing else than a trap into which the licentious young Chinaman was wont to decoy the victims of his lust and was enabled to ensure their ruin. The apartments of the pavilion were all furnished regardless of cost and in the most sumptuous Asiatic style. In every room there were luxurious divans and on every wall hung pictures which might be valuable, perhaps, as works of art, but the subjects of which were sensual and immoral to the lowest degree. On that same night in which the attack was made upon Soeka maniesan, that Chinese pavilion also was surprised. Here the attempt succeeded even more easily than that on the sugar plantation. Lim Ho had that evening left his house in Santjoemeh and was sitting in his pavilion impatiently awaiting for some poor creature who had aroused his passions, and whom his agents had promised to bring him. He had with him only two Chinese servants, fellows who neither would nor could offer the faintest resistance. About midnight, a knock was heard at the door. It was a low faint knock, and the babah, in a fever of expectation, and thinking it was the pigeon which had been decoyed to his den, gave the word at once to open the door.

No sooner, however, had the bolts been drawn and the key turned in the lock, than half-a-dozen men with blackened faces and armed to the teeth sprang in. Lim Ho, true to the cowardly nature of his race, turned pale as death but never for an instant thought of resistance. He glanced round nervously to see whether any way of escape lay open to him; but when he saw both doors occupied and guarded by the attacking party, he tried, in his unmanly terror, to hide himself by creeping under one of the divans. In a very few minutes, however, he was dragged out of that hiding place and was securely bound, strapped to a horse and carried off.

Here again, just as at Soeka maniesan, the attacking party left everything untouched. They did not lay a finger on any of the articles of value which lay scattered about; but they confined themselves strictly to the murder of Mrs. van Gulpendam and to the capture of the Resident and of the opium farmer's son.

The proprietor of the sugar factory had, it is true, been knocked down by a blow of one of their clubs; but that blow had not been struck wantonly. It was inflicted simply as a precaution and in self-defence; for the man would undoubtedly have run off and spread the alarm. He would have roused his factory hands and caused the whole plot to fail, and he would immediately have started in pursuit of the raiders. That had to be guarded against at all hazards. But the blow did not prove deadly or even dangerous. As soon as the first excitement, consequent upon the discovery of Laurentia's murder, had somewhat subsided, a band of men had sallied forth to put out the fire in the fields, and then the owner of the factory was discovered lying insensible just outside his own grounds. At first they thought he was dead; for he was quite unconscious. They carried him into the house, and then his wife soon found out that her husband, though stunned by a severe blow, was neither wounded nor materially injured. Every effort was made to restore him, and after some time, he recovered his senses. The day had dawned before the police had arrived at Soeka maniesan and began to make their inquiries. There and then a careful examination was held of the entire staff employed on the factory--every single individual being submitted to a rigorous interrogatory; but no clue was found which could lead to the detection of the perpetrators of this daring outrage. Just outside the yet smouldering cane-fields, were found the tracks of horses; but that led to no result for the weather had for a long time been very dry and the morning breeze had covered all further tracks with a thick layer of fine dust. Thus there was nothing, absolutely nothing, to indicate the direction the horsemen might have taken. The proprietor himself, poor fellow, could not give the slightest information. All he knew was that, as he was quietly walking about engaged in argument with the Resident, a number of fellows with blackened faces had started up from behind one of the tall piles of leaves, that he had attempted to run away, but had been overtaken and had received a blow on the head which stunned him. Of what had taken place after that he, of course, knew nothing whatever. The overseer's story was, if possible, still more unsatisfactory. He said that the instant he saw the threatening forms appearing from behind the heap of dadoe, he had flung himself down flat upon the ground and then crept under another heap of leaves; and that he had not ventured to stir out of that hiding place until he heard the crackling of the canes and began to fear that the leaves which covered him might be attacked by the flames. While in this state of terror and suspense, he had seen nothing and had heard nothing. Now, the question was: where were they to look for Resident van Gulpendam? The police were at their wits' end. The whole district of Santjoemeh was, naturally enough, in the greatest excitement; and universal horror prevailed at the terrible fate which, in all probability, had overtaken the chief of the district. But do what they could, and search where they would, not a trace of the criminals could be discovered, not a single gleam of light could be cast upon the impenetrable mystery. For a day or two this state of suspense endured until a fisherman, as he was trying to get his boat into the Moeara Tjatjing, caught sight of the naked body of a European floating just outside the surf. He made for it and drew it into his boat and then took it to the loerah of Kaligaweh which was the nearest dessa.

Had this simple Javanese fisherman only known that it was the body of the kandjeng toean, he would no doubt have turned away his head and quietly said to his mates: "Let Allah's justice float by undisturbed."

Had he been able to foresee what troubles he was bringing upon himself by raising that corpse from its watery grave, he would have taken good care not to touch it. The alligators would, no doubt, soon enough have provided for its burial.

As it was, the loerah of the dessa began by locking up the poor fellow. Then he had to submit to endless examinations by the wedono, by the pattih, by the regent, by the controller, by the assistant resident, by the public prosecutor. All these authorities were most eager in the matter; and thought that, in this poor man, they held in their hands a clue to the mysterious drama enacted at Soeka maniesan. Thus they vied with one another in badgering the poor devil, until they drove him to desperation, and he at length was forced to declare that he was light-headed and of weak intellect.

The body was readily identified as that of Resident van Gulpendam. There could be no doubt about that; for the features were almost intact. But all the parts which the sea-monsters had spared appeared extremely inflamed and swollen; and it was evident that the unhappy man must have died under an extremity of torture, though there was nothing to show that any knife or sharp instrument had caused his death.

What then had been his fate?

"To the 'djaga monjet!'"

Yes! It was indeed to that very same dismal hut in the mangrove swamp by the Moeara Tjatjing, to which we introduced our readers in our first chapters, that the band of horsemen was now riding at full speed.

They carefully avoided all the dessas which lay on the road, a thing which they could easily do as they were perfectly acquainted with all the bye-paths. They shunned even the guard-houses, not being certain that the watchmen stationed there could be implicitly trusted. Thus, without let or hindrance, the little troop rode on, and the day was just beginning to break when they reached the mangrove wood, in which the "djaga monjet" was situated.

When they carried van Gulpendam, still bound hand and foot, into the hut, they found Lim Ho there. He had been brought in some time before, and was lying stretched out at full length upon the wretched flooring. He also was bound so tightly that he could not move hand or foot. At a signal from a tall, slim Javanese, who appeared to be the leader of the band, the cords which bound the unhappy prisoners were loosened, and the gags were removed from their mouths.

Around them stood about twenty Javanese, all unrecognisable, with blackened faces and fully armed.

The Chinaman uttered not a word, he seemed prostrate with terror. The sudden shock appeared to have annihilated him.

But, as soon as the European felt that he was free, he stretched his limbs, and in a voice of conscious dignity he said:

"Are you aware that I am the kandjeng toean Resident?"

"Yes, kandjeng toean," replied the leader in a tone of mock humility.

"It is but a few days ago," continued van Gulpendam, "that the kandjeng toean Radja honoured me with a particular mark of his high favour." As he spoke these words he pointed haughtily to the huge cross which still was hanging sparkling on the breast of his light-blue resident's frock.

"Yes, kandjeng toean!" repeated the leader, while all his men made the sembah in token of deep respect.

"Government will exact the most terrible punishment should you hurt so much as a hair of my head!"

A mocking laugh was the answer to that speech. Twenty men grasped the handles of their krises; but at a wave from the leader's hand, all kept silence, and not a single word was spoken, not a single blade was drawn.

"Before Government will be able to punish," rejoined the Javanese quietly, "you will both be dead men."

"Dead!" exclaimed Lim Ho in a voice husky with terror.

"Dead?" cried van Gulpendam. "No, no, you dare not do that! My death would be too fearfully avenged!"

"Both of you, I said--" resumed the leader with perfect coolness, "I said both of you deserve to die. We have passed sentence upon you. That sentence must be carried out--after that, they may do with us what they will--I mean, of course, if they can lay hands upon us."

"But," cried Lim Ho, half mad with terror, "what have I done?"

"You ask me what you have done? Well, I will tell you. In this very hut, you inflicted upon a man, whose only fault was that he loved, and intended to marry, a girl upon whom you had cast your lustful eyes, the most atrocious torture. You ask what you have done? That same young girl you contrived, with the assistance of the njonja of yonder wretch, to get into your possession, you outraged her most brutally, and then, when you had worked your foul will upon her, you cast her off and accused her of opium smuggling."

Lim Ho's face grew ashy-pale as he heard these terrible words, he began to understand into whose hands he had fallen.

Van Gulpendam thought that he ought still to keep up his proud and dignified bearing. He could not bring himself to believe that a mere Javanese would dare to raise his hand against his august person, against the kandjeng toean. But yet he thought it advisable to speak in a somewhat conciliatory tone.

"If what you have just now said be true," he began, "then certainly Lim Ho deserves severe punishment, and I pledge you my word that I will exert my authority to see that his punishment shall be proportioned to his offence; but what have I done that you dare to treat me thus?"

"You, you, kandjeng toean!" vehemently broke in the leader, in a voice which seemed fairly to hiss with rage, "you have made the offences, as you call them, of this Chinese dog possible. You have had the man, of whom I just now spoke, cast into a dungeon, you condemned him to the most barbarous punishment, knowing all the while that he was innocent. And all this you have done merely in order that you might screen the smuggling trade of that scoundrel. You supplied the opium-farmer with the means of preventing that girl's father from defending his own child against the brutality of yon beastly Chinaman. Do you still ask me what you have done? Why, you and your wife are guilty of all I have said--and you and your wife deserve to die. Part of our sentence has already been carried out, and, believe me, it will be fully executed."

"Wha--! What? Partly carried out you said?" gasped van Gulpendam. "My wife--!"

The leader turned to one of his followers:

"Tell the kandjeng toean what has become of the njonja."

"The njonja is dead!" was the brief reply.

"Yes!" shouted the leader wildly, "the njonja is dead! We had mercy upon her, one single stab put an end to her accursed life. Look here--those spots on my kris--they are her blood!"

"That shriek I heard?" cried van Gulpendam.

"Was the last sound she will ever utter in this world. But," continued the Javanese, still carried away by his passion, "do not for a moment flatter yourself that we will deal thus mercifully with you. Upon a woman we could have compassion. But you! Oh yes, you shall suffer! You shall feel something of the tortures you are so ready to inflict upon others!"

Even then van Gulpendam retained something of his fortitude and haughty bearing, and he said:

"I bid you beware of the punishing hand of the Dutch Government, it will know how to avenge me."

"I am prepared to brave any peril, if only I have my revenge," said the Javanese. "Upon you I am determined to execute justice!"

"Justice, justice!" cried van Gulpendam, "and who are you that you dare to prate about justice, even while you are planning sedition and preparing for murder? Tell me who are you?"

"Who I am? Well, you shall know!"

In a corner of that wretched cabin stood a tub filled with water. The Javanese took up the cocoa-nut scoop which hung by it and washed his face.

"Now do you recognise me?" he cried, as he drew himself up to his full height before his prisoners.

"Ardjan!" sighed Lim Ho.

"Ardjan!" cried van Gulpendam as thoroughly dismayed as was his companion in misfortune.

Both of them now plainly saw that they were reserved for some dreadful death. The account which each had to settle with that young man was a heavy one indeed.

"Have mercy! Have mercy upon us!" they cried as they fell down on their knees before him, their teeth chattering with terror as they knelt at his feet.

"Mercy?" almost shrieked Ardjan. "What mercy did you show poor Dalima and old Setrosmito? Come, speak up, will you? What mercy did you show to me and to my old father? Dalima violated! My father and I locked up for months in a loathsome prison, and then, sentenced--by your very mouth--to years of penal servitude-- And now you ask me to have mercy? If I could feel pity then indeed you might call me the veriest blockhead in the world. But," continued the Javanese, after a moment's pause, "tell me, supposing I could feel pity, supposing I were to set you free, tell me, kandjeng toean, what would you do then?"

These words were spoken in a much milder tone, it seemed as if Ardjan were wavering, and, in that hesitation, the unfortunate European thought he could see a faint gleam of hope. Trembling with fear, he raised himself on his knees, and, wringing his hands in agony, he cried, while big tears went coursing down his cheeks:

"Oh, do not fear. You shall have full pardon--free pardon--I have power with the Government and I can induce them to forgive all. The great lord at Batavia will grant me my request. All the injustice which has been done shall be amply made good. You shall have compensation--I will see to it I will pay it out of my own purse--! All that has happened shall be made good, believe me!"

"Dalima's injuries also?" asked a hoarse croaking voice from behind Ardjan. "Those white fellows seem to think they are almighty, or else they fancy that we Javanese are the greatest fools in the world!"

That name of Dalima and these few scornful words seemed to rouse Ardjan out of the fit of weakness which appeared for a moment to have come over him. He shook his head violently as if he wished to drive out some unwelcome thoughts, at that movement his head-cloth became loosened and his long black hair streamed fiercely and wildly over his shoulders.

"No! no!" he exclaimed, "no pity, no mercy. Now I have you in my power, you are crawling and cringing at my feet as mean and as cowardly as the vilest beasts. Did you ever see a Javanese so degrade himself? Did you ever see a native act so meanly, even when pleading for his life? You have sent plenty of them to the gallows, and you ought to know how a coloured man can die. Pity! mercy! Ha! ha! ha! You are ready enough now with your promises; but in your hearts you are, even now, scheming how you may evade them and break them. Trust a white man's word!--ha! ha! ha! As if we don't know all about that. Whenever did a white man keep his promise to us Javanese? Whenever--"

Here one of the men whispered something into Ardjan's ear.

"Yes, yes, you are right, let us cut it short. No, no--no pity, far from it. You shall have a painful, a cruel death. I had made up my mind to give you the most terrible--the 'hoekoem madoe--'"

Lim Ho uttered a fearful yell at these terrible words.

"Mercy! mercy!" he moaned.

"--But that would take too much time," continued Ardjan, who had by this time regained his composure. "We might get the police upon us before you were quite finished and that would spoil the game-- No, I have given up that idea. You shall undergo the 'hoekoem kamadoog.' The same punishment, you remember, Lim Ho, that you gave me; and yet I had committed no fault whatever, and the kandjeng toean there thought it right to leave your outrageous crime unpunished. No, you must not be able to say that I am more barbarous than you."

"Mercy! Mercy!" cried both the wretched men.

"No! no! no pity!" rejoined Ardjan.

Then, with a signal to one of his mates, he continued:

"Strip them and take them outside!"

That order was carried out literally and in a very few minutes. The fine light-blue coat was rent from the Resident's back, his trousers followed and his shirt; and torn to ribbons they soon lay on the dirty floor of the cabin--even the Virtus nobilitat was trampled under foot.

Lim Ho underwent the same rough operation, and then both men stood there naked before their pitiless judges. Then their hands were tied behind their backs and the wretched creatures were simply pitched down the rude steps.

Ardjan reminded Lim Ho of the glorious fun he had eight months ago when the two Chinamen and himself were similarly treated.

"You remember," he laughed, "how Than Khan and Liem King tumbled down from top to bottom? It was fine sport to you then!"

It took but a few moments to tie up the two victims to the Niboeng-palms, which grew in front of the hut--to the very trees to which the two Chinamen and Ardjan himself had been fastened.

"The kandjeng toean to that tree," said Ardjan, pointing to the stem at which he had himself suffered.

"Pardon! Pity!" the poor victims kept crying incessantly.

No one heeded their agonising yells. When they were tied up--Ardjan gave the word: "Now, my lads, give way!"

Four men stepped forward each armed with a bunch of the formidable nettle, and the blows began to fall like rain upon the bare limbs of the wretched victims.

Wherever the leaves fell the flesh seemed to shrink away in agony.

The Chinaman bit his under-lip until the teeth met in the flesh, but he did not utter a single moan. At first van Gulpendam strove to follow his example; but he had not the tough resolution of an Asiatic in this supreme moment. He could not restrain himself. First he moaned, then he whimpered, he cried aloud in his misery, he howled, he yelled with pain. Nothing could touch his ruthless executioners. "Pardon! mercy!" he cried. "Oh, I beg for mercy!"

But, in reply to his piteous cries, came the words:

"Dalima! Ardjan! Pak Ardjan! Setrosmito!" And then upon the brain of the unhappy Resident there flashed another name, a name more terrible to him perhaps than all the others:

"Meidema, Meidema! pardon, mercy!" he kept on wailing in a voice which told of the most exquisite torture.

But gradually his cries grew weaker, at length they became hardly intelligible--they gurgled like a hoarse and dying rattle in the throat. The pain was beyond endurance. Still the men kept plying their deadly nettle.

At length his head began to dangle helplessly, and it seemed as if the unfortunate sufferer had lost consciousness.

Lim Ho had been fortunate enough to reach that state much earlier, and was thus sooner out of his misery.

Ardjan stood by at the scene, glaring at his victims with revengeful eagerness. He clenched his fists convulsively, he had to exercise the greatest self-control to prevent himself from catching up one of the bunches of kamadoog leaves and having his blow at the wretched beings who had not scrupled to inflict the same barbarous treatment upon himself. No, no, he felt not the smallest grain of pity--he could think only of his own wrongs and his own happiness destroyed for ever. Even if the voice of pity could have spoken within him it would have been stifled by his father, who, standing close behind him, kept on whispering in his ear: "Dalima, Dalima!"

For some time the two victims had been unconscious; but yet Ardjan did not think of putting a stop to the torture. At every blow, at every touch even of those terrible leaves the skin of the sufferers puckered up though the bodies no longer felt the pain. The muscles stretched, then ran up into knots and horrid spasms shot through the entire frames. Soon the bodies could no longer support themselves, but hung in the cords that bound them, limp as empty sacks. The eyes of the tortured men were closed; but every now and then they would spasmodically open for a moment, and would stare with a blood-shot stony gaze which betrayed the extreme suffering which even the senseless body was undergoing.

In their dying agonies they flung their heads convulsively to and fro, dashing them up fearfully against the Niboeng palm while flecks of foam came flying from their lips. But, in this world everything must come to an end, and at length the protracted sufferings were over.

Gradually the convulsive starts of the two bodies began to subside and finally ceased altogether. The soul had left its earthly tenement. Then Ardjan, in tones the most indifferent in the world, said, "Enough!"

At the word, his men looked at him for further instructions. "Untie them," he said, and without speaking another word, he pointed to the sea.

The instant the ropes were cut through, the bodies fell with a heavy thud to the ground. As he fell van Gulpendam for the last time opened his eyes and, very softly, but quite intelligibly he sighed forth the single word:

"Meidema!"

The thought of that unhappy family--of those good honest people whose ruin he had so craftily and cruelly planned, haunted that guilty soul even as it was taking its flight. With that name on his lips he expired.

Lim Ho gave no sign of life.

Both corpses were then dragged to the Kali Tjatjing and pitched into the water, and the stream quickly carried them out to the Java sea.

In the far distance between the two headlands could be seen the schooner brig Kiem Ping Hin quietly riding at anchor and flying the British ensign. Faithful to her calling she was waiting for an opportunity to deliver her smuggled goods to the company Lim Yang Bing.

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XLII. IN THE GOEWAH TEMON. CONCLUSION

"Anna, Anna!" cried van Nerekool, and in that cry he cast his whole soul; but it was uttered in vain; for just then a sharp bend in the path caused the two girls to disappear behind a great mass of rock.

When Charles, Murowski and Grenits reached the spot where they had caught this last glimpse of the fugitives, not a trace could be discovered of either of them.

"Anna, Anna!" shouted Charles again and again at the top of his voice; but a beautifully distinct echo, reverberating from the opposite hills, seemed only to mock his cries.

Our three friends, however, were now compelled to pause. They felt that they could go on no longer, and must stop awhile to regain breath. The exertion, indeed, had been very great; for that little path kept winding upward, ever upward, and the headlong speed with which they had rushed on made a short rest absolutely necessary. Charles, however, every now and then, repeated his cry of "Anna, Anna!" He thought that his voice might perhaps reach the girl and induce her to stop or to turn. But, no other response came to his anxious call, than that of the sportive echo which, sharply and clearly, flung back the two syllables, "Anna, Anna!"

When they had rested awhile, and to some extent regained their strength and their wind, the three set off again in pursuit. They had to follow a road which led them along the most eccentric windings up hill and down dale. At one time the path would run sharply round some huge rock, at another it would follow the course of some erratic mountain-stream. Elsewhere again, it ran zigzagging down an almost perpendicular slope; but yet, on the whole, the ground was steadily rising and was evidently leading up to the lofty table-land which is bounded by the cliffs of the Goenoeng Poleng. Very frequently the road would run, for a while, abruptly downhill as it took them into the bottom of some wild ravine; but this, far from giving them rest, only increased the discomfort of travelling. For the sudden change of motion threatened to dislocate their already tired knees and then, every descent was immediately succeeded by a sharp and trying climb which put to tremendous proof the soundness and power of their lungs.

But in spite of fatigue, the three men kept hurrying on. Van Nerekool's impatience would brook no delay. They panted, they caught their breath, they puffed and blew like grampuses; but still they kept on. As they turned every sharp bend in the road, they felt sure that they must catch sight of the fugitives; for certainly they could not have got very far ahead of them. Escape was utterly impossible; for there existed but the one path up the mountain, and that went twisting and turning through a country so wild and so rugged that no human being could leave the footpath either to the right or left. So they anxiously peered round all about them whenever they gained some spot which gave a command of the country; but look as they would, not a glimpse could they catch of either Anna or Dalima.

At length the three men gained the top of the plateau, and they felt that, for a few moments, they must again sit down and rest. But yet, they could find no trace of the young girls they were so eagerly following. The road now no longer rose, it merely twisted in and out between huge boulders of rock, between hill tops, and around thick clumps of dwarf shrubs, and thus it offered no extensive view.

"They cannot possibly be far ahead of us!" panted van Nerekool. "Let us get on, let us get on! We must be close upon them!"

But in this the young man was mistaken--as a matter of fact the girls had really gained very considerably on their pursuers.

In the first place, they had a considerable start when the chase began. They had been able to run nimbly along a path which was quite familiar to them, which they had indeed been accustomed to climb almost daily. Their knowledge of the country enabled them to make many a short cut with which the Europeans were unacquainted; and thus they had managed to avoid many a long bend and twist in the road. And lastly, extreme terror seemed to have lent Anna wings, and poor Dalima had been compelled, as best she might, to toil after her young mistress. When they reached the plateau, Anna kept on leading the way and hurrying in a southerly direction. She knew that the sea could not be far away; for the thunder of the breakers, which, for some time, had been audible in the distance as a hoarse murmur, now grew more distinct every moment; and as they sped on they could feel the very soil quivering under the terrific pounding of the mighty ocean on the perpendicular wall of rock.

"Where are you running to, Nana?" panted Dalima.

"Let us hurry on!" cried Anna impatiently, as she ran, casting behind her many an anxious look.

"But, where are we going to, Nana?"

"Why yonder!" cried Anna hurriedly as she pointed to the south.

"But that way leads to the sea!" cried Dalima.

"Just so," replied Anna, "and that is where I want to go."

"What are we going to do there, Nana?" asked Dalima anxiously.

"I know a hiding place where no one will find us or even go to look for us."

"What? There, Nana?"

"Yes, yes, do come along--try to make another effort--it cannot be far away!"

"A hiding place?" repeated Dalima. "But, Nana, there is nothing over there but the bare rock."

"Aye; but in those rocks there are holes!" cried Anna much excited.

"The Goewahs!" exclaimed the baboe in utter dismay.

Anna answered a few words which, however, Dalima did not catch. Darting on like a hind, the Resident's daughter had outstripped her companion. Dalima was naturally very strong and inured to fatigue and exertion; but her condition was beginning to tell upon her. The burden she had to bear and the rapid motion, had utterly exhausted her, and she felt her strength fast ebbing away. The blood began to flush up to her head, her temples throbbed, her eyes seemed covered as with a reddish film; and an insupportable feeling of weariness and listlessness pervaded her entire frame. Still she struggled on game to the last. Her breathing was getting thick and wheezy--she was, in fact, on the point of fainting altogether. But this little Javanese girl was endowed with a tough frame and an indomitable will; and, though almost exhausted, yet she struggled after her companion as mechanically she kept muttering to herself:

"Forward! Forward!" Oh no! she could not, she would not leave her Nana in the hour of need.

This painful progress went on for some time. At length, after they had turned round an immense boulder which seemed to form a barrier to the path, Anna stood still.

Before her, in all its grandeur, lay stretched out the Indian Ocean; and from the height of about twelve hundred feet she could obtain a magnificent view of it.

She cast one anxious look behind her. The position she now occupied commanded an extensive view of the path along which she had toiled up; but not a soul could she see stirring on it. Might the pursuit have been given up? It seemed improbable, yet it was possible. Might they have missed the road and gone off on some wrong track? Anna fancied, that every now and then, she had heard her name called out behind her; but that again might very well be the result of her over-wrought imagination. Again and again she eagerly scanned the horizon in all directions. But no, nothing, nothing was to be seen.

Somewhat quieted she then turned her attention to poor Dalima, who, panting and moaning, had, by this time, come up to her, and then, almost senseless, had sunk to the ground.

Anna sat down by her companion. She tried to cheer her up; she rubbed and kneaded, in native fashion, the muscles of her neck and shoulders, she patted her hands; in fact, she neglected nothing that the most anxious solicitude could suggest until she saw that Dalima had somewhat recovered from her prostration.

As soon as she had succeeded in relieving her companion, Anna again gave an anxious nervous look behind her, but still she could perceive nothing. Then she walked forward resolutely to the edge of the slope which ran before her down to the sea.

"Yes," said she, half aloud, "the ladder is still hanging there. I have heard a good many tales about the Goewah Temon. If it must be so--I shall fly there for refuge!"

Then, once again, looking to the north, she continued: "But I hope I may not have to undertake that fearful journey--I can see nothing," she said with a sigh, "if Charles were really on my track, he must have appeared long before this on the table-land!"

Therewith she turned her face full to the ocean. Though she was disguised in Javanese dress, yet she was, and always would remain, a child of the West; that is to say, her eyes were open to the glories which Nature was there offering to her gaze.

Before her lay the Indian Ocean. On the far horizon it seemed to melt away into the sky; but yet in that distance a line clearly defined the apparent contact of sea and heaven. Closer inland the water wore a dark blue tint, forming a beautiful contrast with the light azure-blue of the heavens. This contrast was rendered more striking still by the tremendous rollers which came up from the South. Those mighty billows looked like long lines of liquid hills, which seemed to detach themselves from the horizon and come rolling in majestically upon the shore of Java.

These immense waves were smooth as polished glass; for not the faintest breath of wind so much as ruffled their surface, and thus rising and falling calmly and mysteriously, they looked like the undulations of some vast sheet of dark blue cloth. They came rolling in quietly and regularly like the ranks of an advancing army; and, on the side of the wide ocean, they sloped but very gently, as though the deep were too languid to exert itself. But, on the land-side, the slope was steep and the columns of water came on black as an advancing wall. At first, and seen at a distance, the tops of these advancing waves were smooth and round; but as the watery mass neared the land and the wave rose higher and higher, so gradually did it narrow and grow sharper at the top; and the billows seemed to succeed one another at shorter intervals. At length, the tops lost their rounded form altogether--they became a mere ridge which began to fret angrily--then they sharpened to a mere line which, fast and furious, seemed eager to outstrip the wave itself. A moment after, this line of water began to bend forward, forward, forward still, until it formed an arc of immeasurable length. Presently that graceful curve seemed to fly to pieces and shake itself into a ragged crest of silver foam; and, at last, the entire mass came toppling down, covering the sea with thick milk-white froth which came sparkling, and thundering, and dashing itself into blinding spray against the wall of trachyte which seemed to say to the mighty element: "Hitherto shalt thou come and no farther."

Anna did not venture to look down into the sheer depth below her, where the waters were boiling in their fury. She feared that a look into that giddy depth might shake her resolution should she actually be compelled to attempt the descent. She gazed out far away to the horizon. There, almost due west, she could clearly see Noesa Kembangan, that beautiful hilly island which, with its luxurious vegetation, seemed to float as a basket of flowers on the watery expanse. She could clearly discern its lighthouse standing on the Tjemering hill--standing out clear against the light blue sky like a pillar of cloud arising from among the foliage. Here and there the bosom of the ocean was dotted with a white sail like some big sea-bird disporting itself upon the glassy surface. And, as if chance had wished to accentuate that resemblance, just then a flight of snow-white cranes came hovering by, forming a dull white stripe on the azure sky. They flew harshly screeching towards the West, on their way, probably, to the fishy lagoons and morasses which there abound. The swift and easy flight of these birds suggested a sad thought to poor Anna: "Oh, that I had wings," she sighed, "that I also could fly, fly far away and be at rest!"

And then her fancy carried her back to the past. The image of Charles van Nerekool rose up vividly before her. As in a dream she pictured to herself how happy she might have been by her lover's side. She could hear that "invitation à la valse" and to its delightful melody she seemed once again to float about with his arm around her. She could hear his first murmured confession of love. She again passed through those delicious moments after the dance in the quiet garden of the Residence. Before her, arose the Pandan grove in which Charles had gently detained her to reiterate his declaration of love. At the rhythmical swell and thunder of the ocean, which was giving forth its mighty melody at her feet, she fancied she could hear again the soft duet played by the cornet and the piccolo:

"Un jour l'âme ravie, Je vous vis si jolie, Que je vous crus sortie Du céleste séjour. Etait-ce donc un ange, une femme, Qui venait d'embraser mon âme? Las! Je ne sais encore.... Mais depuis ce beau jour Je sais que j'aime d'un pur amour."

She felt once again her lover's arm around her waist and his voice she could hear whispering to her softly, and saying:

"Anna, my darling, I love you, I love you more dearly than words can express, more dearly than my mother, than my sister, more dearly than my own life!"

Oh! those precious words! Ah! that heavenly moment! And then, dreaming on, she heard:

"Tell me, Anna, tell me. Do you love me, dearest? I know I have already had your answer; but repeat that word once again, now that we are here alone--now that we are here, far from the noise of the world--repeat that little word now, as we are standing under the eye of God himself!"

She had treasured up those words. They were engraven as it were, in her heart. Then she could feel the kiss--the first kiss of love which set the seal to her murmured reply. She could feel--

But, as at Santjoemeh, so here again, she was destined to be roughly startled out of her reverie. She fancied she could hear the voice of her mother. She would have cur-- No, no, not that, she had not the heart to curse anyone; but she cast one reproachful look upwards to heaven, as she felt how so much bliss had been turned to misery and woe. The pleasant dream had vanished.

"A blighted life!" she sighed, "a blighted life!"

A sudden shriek shook her up out of her day-dream.

"Nana!" cried Dalima, "the gentlemen are coming."

And indeed, to Anna's horror, she then saw in the bend of the path Murowski, van Nerekool, and Grenits, coming along with all speed. Without taking one instant for deliberation she dashed down the slope which led to the awful precipice before her.

"Nana! Nana!" cried Dalima beside herself with terror, "what are you about?"

The poor Javanese girl did her best to follow her companion; but, before she could fairly stagger to her feet, Anna was far ahead of her, and, fagged and exhausted as Dalima was, she could not pursue her quickly enough. As she neared the edge of the slope which ended in a perpendicular wall of rock running straight down to the sea, she could see Anna lay hold of the upper steps of the rottang-ladder which led down to the deep below.

"Nana! Nana!" she cried in heartrending accents.

She rushed on--she saw her young mistress place one foot carefully upon the ladder--she saw her body gradually disappearing.

"Nana! Nana!"

Now, only Anna's head was visible. That also disappeared, and she could only see one hand clutching at the topmost rung.

"Nana! Nana!"

The hand let go its hold before Dalima could bend forward to grasp it. It was gone--gone!

Then the Javanese girl flung herself flat upon the ground and peered over the edge of the fearful precipice which yawned beneath her. What she saw there was enough to freeze the young blood in her veins. But she had no time to waste in gazing with horror at what was going on below.

Once again she shrieked, "Nana! Nana!"

Just then she felt some one grasp her arm. She looked up, and van Nerekool was standing beside her.

"You here, Dalima!" cried he, not understanding in the least what was going on. "Where is nonna Anna?"

"Allah! tobat toean!" cried Dalima, still lying on the ground, but pointing with horror down into the deep.

"There? There?" exclaimed Charles beside himself with terror, while he flung himself down on the ground and gazed into that frightful precipice.

Fortunately Grenits and Murowski were close behind their friend. He was in a fearfully dangerous position, as he, regardless of all caution, hung over the wall of rock, and it was well for him that his friends firmly grasped his legs.

"Charles! Charles!" they cried.

"Anna! Anna!" cried van Nerekool in despair--for yonder, far beneath him, he could see the girl cautiously climbing down the long ladder which, made of rottang ropes, was dangling and swaying about under the burden it had to carry.

The foot of this crazy ladder dipped into the sea, and was being swayed about by the breakers as they came rolling in shore.

When a wave thundered up it swept the end of the ladder into the cave as the water rushed into the opening; and then, when it receded spouting out of the mouth with the force of a cataract, the foot of the ladder was whirled away again in the opposite direction. This violent motion repeatedly dashed Anna up against the face of the rock as she was dangling there far above the surface of the sea, and every now and then a roller would dash its blinding spray upward as if greedy for its prey.

At that fearful sight van Nerekool shuddered.

"Anna! Anna!" he called again and again in heartrending tones.

His voice seemed to reach her above the din of the water. Timidly she glanced upwards. When she saw that face which showed clearly against the blue sky, and which she recognised in an instant, she uttered a faint shriek and hurried down faster than before.

Van Nerekool sprang to his feet.

"I must go down!" cried he nervously.

And before his friends could do anything to prevent him, he had grasped the top of the ladder, had stretched out one foot over the abyss, had placed it into one of the rungs, and had begun his perilous descent.

It was now Murowski's turn, and Grenits's turn, to fling themselves down flat on the ground.

Certainly it was a horrifying sight to behold those two human beings dangling above that roaring sea on one frail ladder of rope. The two men could not speak, they could hardly breathe, so intense was the excitement and tension of that moment. There they lay gazing down, utterly powerless to stretch out even a finger to save their friend.

As soon as Anna perceived that van Nerekool was following her she obeyed the impulse which had driven her to flight, and tried to descend more rapidly than before. But, another thought came flashing upon her. She had heard the dessa-people at Ajo talking a great deal about the Goewah Temon. She knew, from them, that, at low water, the entrance to the cave might be reached; and that then the cave itself might be entered. She knew also that this entrance could only be gained by swimming, because the bottom of the cavity was quite six feet below the lowest water mark. She did not mind that, for she could swim like a duck; but--! but--! all this was only practicable at ebb tide, at dead low water, and when the sea was calm and there were no breakers rolling in.

But now--! now the waves were dashing with terrific violence against that trachyte wall--It seemed as if every successive wave reached higher--Yet she descended--further down--still down--

"Anna! Anna!" cried Charles above her head.

At length she reached the top of the vaulted cavity. She knew that, at low water, the opening was about fifty feet high, but how narrow did it look just then! Indeed the greater part of it was covered by the sea. She fancied she might just manage to reach the courses of rottang-rope which led from the mouth of the hole to its interior to assist the gatherers of swallows' nests in their perilous work.

She was putting out her hand to feel for one of those cables.

But, as she did so, a wave of enormous strength came rolling up and broke at her feet with a crash like thunder, and fearfully shook the foot of the ladder which hung loosely floating about at the entrance of the cave.

Terrified out of her senses, the young girl lost her presence of mind altogether. She let go her grip, and fell backward into the seething water.

"A blighted life!" was her last cry as she fell.

Van Nerekool had looked down, as he felt the huge wave approaching--he saw his beloved Anna fall backward--he saw her floating in that boiling surf--he saw her tossed and rolled about like a log in that thick mass of white foam. For the merest fraction of a second he could see her glorious mass of jet-black hair waving on the gleaming surface--and then--all was sucked up into the cave and disappeared from his view.

To him, she was now lost for ever! There he was, helplessly dangling above the precipice which had just swallowed up his dearest treasure on earth, and--for an instant he knew not what to do. The next moment came the lull and the huge billow was hurrying back to sea. Then the young man saw the immense volume of water spouting out of the cave with magnificent energy; but--in that clear blue column, as it rushed forth, his eye could catch nothing which looked like a human body; and it flashed upon him that, dead or alive, Anna must have been left behind in the cave. She might have clutched hold of some projecting rock, her clothing might have caught somewhere. Quick as lightning he darted down the ladder. The top of that cave he must get to before the next wave came tumbling in. With feverish eagerness he clutched the rungs--he made no use of his feet--he rather slid down and--he just contrived to grasp one of the rottang cables, and get his feet clear of the ladder when, another wave gave it a violent shake which might have compelled him to let go his grip and might have swallowed him up as it had done Anna.

Van Nerekool was now, comparatively speaking, safe. Two sturdy cables of considerable thickness were stretched out parallel to one another all along the inner wall of the grot. At intervals these were fastened by gemoetoe cords to the salient parts of the rock. On the lower of these cables Charles could plant his feet, while with his hands he grasped the upper one. Beneath him the sea was roaring and over his head and all around him fluttered the sea-swallows uttering their shrill cries and darting in and out of the mouth of the cave through the blinding spray.

Grenits and Murowski from the top of the cliff had eagerly watched all that had passed. They had been horrified at seeing Anna fall and van Nerekool disappear in the cavity.

"Well!" cried one of them, "what to do now?"

"We can do no good up here," said the other.

Dalima begged them to tell her what they had seen, and as soon as she had heard it she cried:

"We must be off at once to the loerah of the dessa Ajo. He has a boat with which, I know, he occasionally visits the Goewahs."

And that brave little Javanese girl, forgetting all about herself and her painful condition, shook off her fatigue and was already far down the pathway before the Europeans had found time to follow her. And, when they came to the foot of the mountain they found the boat of which Dalima had spoken.

The loerah made a very wry face when he heard the project of the two Europeans. To try and get to the Goewah Temon in such weather! It could not be done. He pointed to the mouth of the Kali Djeties. There the mountain water flowing down was struggling with the rising tide and made the breakers fly up in clouds of spray. At the sight, which was indeed an awful one, the two friends all but despaired. Must they then give up all hope? Must they leave van Nerekool to perish without an effort?

"I will give you fifty guilders, loerah!" cried Grenits, "if you bring me up to the cave!"

The Javanese chief scratched the back of his head in sore perplexity.

"And I," cried Murowski, "I give another fifty!"

The loerah began to waver. He exchanged a few anxious words with a couple of men who stood by his side. These seemed not so scrupulous. With a gesture of assent they at once sprang into the boat into which the Europeans took their seats also.

"Look here," cried Grenits almost cheerfully, "each of you fellows shall have five-and-twenty guilders if we succeed!"

"I will give the same to each of you," said Murowski, "and now give way with all your might."

The loerah had taken his place in the afterpart of the crazy boat and he held the steering paddle. Even Dalima and our two friends Grenits and Murowski had armed themselves with a paddle and prepared to help the rowers to the best of their ability. Under the impulse of these six blades the boat shot rapidly ahead.

At first, as long as the boat was in the bay all went well. The loerah steered straight for the middle of the entrance of the Moeara; for he was anxious to avoid the tossing and the dangerous back-draught of the water along the coast, and thus, helped on by the stream of the river, the little boat sped on like an arrow released from the bowstring. But, as they gradually got into the estuary, the force of the ocean began to make itself felt. The current began to decrease more and more until at length it was no longer perceptible. Now small waves began to beat up against the keel, and these presently increased in size and power as they coursed along the sides and gave a kind of pounding or stamping motion to the little boat. Still the canoe travelled on--it got into the midst of the foam caused by the breakers and into the eddies formed by the retreating waves. The little cockle-shell seemed dancing on foam. The loerah, who knew that the critical moment was approaching, was sitting in the stern his lips tightly compressed. He wore an anxious and determined look as he clutched his steering-paddle which, at one time, the wave strove, as it were, to pluck from his grasp, and at another the violent swaying of the boat threatened to wrench from him.

He was keeping a most anxious look-out, it was a question of life or death. Could he venture to go on? When the billow broke, the hollow tree-stem was at a considerable distance from it. But now the question was: could they hope to get over the distance between that mountain of water and the next one before it also would break? No, he thought they could not. The risk was too great to run. Still he kept looking out and, in the far distance, the next mass of water came steadily rolling up. It was coming on like a towering hill. To the men sitting in that frail canoe it looked like a mountain. The little boat was still hurrying on and, though very unsteadily, yet the five paddles kept way on her. The great wave every instant came nearer and nearer--at length it seemed to rear--it rose as it were perpendicularly over that nutshell, which seemed mad enough to brave its fury. Already it began to form its silvery white crest and appeared like a solid wall of polished blue glittering under the sun's beams.

"Easy all," shouted the loerah, who had the while been carefully watching the approaching wave.

At the word the paddles ceased to move, and the boat lost all the way she had on her. But just then it seemed as if, without any impulse at all, the little boat was hurrying to meet the huge billow. It looked as if she must inevitably be swallowed up in that mighty curl of water which was about to form.

"Back her, back her!" shouted the loerah as he plied his paddle vigorously.

Fortunately the frail boat immediately obeyed the reversed action of the paddles, and was drawing back at the moment when the mass of water was beginning to topple over. One moment, indeed it was only for the fraction of a second, the inmates of the canoe caught a glimpse of that vast cave of water, that enormous cylinder of light-blue transparent crystal. But still the wave continued to curl, to describe something like three quarters of a complete arc, and then--it came crashing down at a few paces from where the boat lay, it came crashing down with a sound like thunder, and covered the entire surface of the sea with thick, milk-white foam. "Give way, give way!" now fairly roared the loerah and, impelled by those sturdy arms, the boat shot ahead over the whirling eddies, through the dense foam flakes, while the terrible force of water went dashing up the mouth of the Moeara.

Now came the time for exertion; for she must be well away out of that place before the back-sweep of the retreating wave could overtake her, she must be fairly out to sea before another such breaker could come upon her.

The men plied their paddles furiously, and the small craft shot ahead with lightning speed. A little while, one supreme effort, and then she began to rise.

"Give way! Give way!" again shouted the loerah and, redoubling his own efforts, he encouraged his men to row vigorously.

Thus impelled under the frantic strokes of the rowers, the boat was driven up the slope of the wave, which had not yet become dangerously steep. For an instant the little shell hung balancing on that watery edge, her ends hovering in the air, only the centre of her keel resting on the water, and then, she quietly slid down the opposite pent and all were out of danger.

The loerah thereupon steered a southerly course; but yet it took a considerable time to reach the mouth of the Goewah. When they got near the cave the ebb tide had fairly set in, and the helmsman had to exercise only ordinary prudence to pilot the boat into the cavity.

Meanwhile what had been going on inside? When van Nerekool had gained a footing on one of the cables, he had at once cautiously begun to advance, groping his way in the twilight which reigned in the cave.

It struck him that the subterranean vault, into which he was now venturing, was of considerable extent, and ran in far under the base of the mountains; but at the same time, he noticed that the bottom of the cave gradually rose, so that the sea, excepting in a few holes here and there, only penetrated about two hundred feet into the interior.

But, within that space, the water had full sway, and was raging furiously.

At first, he could hardly see anything: but presently his eyes became more accustomed to the gloom, and he began, moreover, to feel more confidence in the feat of tight-rope walking he was trying to accomplish. Thus he advanced deeper and deeper still into the cavity. At length, close beside a slab of trachyte against which the water was dashing furiously, he thought he could descry something.

Taking advantage of every prominent bit of rock he carefully let himself down, and he was fortunate enough to succeed in reaching the mass of trachyte. He found its surface uneven enough to give firm foothold, and at length he found some natural steps by which he could venture to descend to the water's edge. And when he got there--there was his Anna, quite unconscious! She had, in her drowning agony, clutched at the rugged face of the rock. The lower part of her body lay floating about in the water; but her head was resting on her arm, which encircled one of the out-jutting pieces of stone.

Charles seized her, he grasped her waist and tried to drag her up against the face of the boulder. The tide was rising and he had need to make haste; for every moment it seemed more probable that Anna would be washed away by the back-rushing waves. By dint of putting forth all his strength, Charles at length succeeded in dragging her to the upper surface of the slab, and then he sat down beside her. He took off his coat and spread it out upon the stone to make his Anna as comfortable a resting place as he could. Her head was resting on his lap and, in that position, he allowed her for awhile quietly to rest.

A single glance around had satisfied van Nerekool of the fact that the highest tides had never reached the top of the block of stone, and that therefore they were, as far as the sea was concerned, in a place of safety.

With his handkerchief he gently wiped away the sea-water from her pale countenance, and he took a strange delight in spreading out upon his knees her luxuriant mass of black-hair as if to dry it. He knew also that it would be worse than useless to try and get out of the cave before low water, the violence of the waves was too great to admit of any such hope. But, he thought, that, at dead-low water it might be possible to reach the ladder which was still tossing about in the entrance of the cave. By that time he had no doubt that Anna would have regained consciousness, and he knew she could swim. Then once on the ladder--However! he thought, time will bring counsel! Thus musing he gazed down at the beautiful girl who lay there helpless on his knees, Murowski, he thought, and Grenits would surely do something to come to the rescue.

It was indeed a critical moment in the young man's life. There, stretched out before him, lay the one being who was dearer to him than all the earth, the one being whom he adored with all the power of his soul, the one being who had robbed him of sleep and deprived him of rest, whose dear image was always and everywhere floating before him. The one human being whom he longed for, whom he yearned to call his own, with all the passionate eagerness and all the tenderness of his impulsive nature.

Anna, in her Javanese dress, was covered only by her sarong and kabaja. The slendang, which had served as her head-dress, she had lost in her descent down the ladder. This extremely primitive costume, made of the lightest and most flimsy materials, was now wet through; and there lay the poor girl unconscious on the lap of her lover, who was suffering torments which might fitly have found a place in Dante's Inferno.

The dim twilight and the finely divided spray which hung all around seemed to bathe that virgin form in a kind of mystic ether and imparted to the entire scene something weird and sublime.

Slowly--very slowly--time rolled on--too slowly for poor Charles van Nerekool.

Meanwhile the water no longer rose, and the turn of the tide was beginning to be felt. Every wave which rushed in, roared and boiled and foamed just as did the former one; but yet the water did not reach quite so high, nor did the waves rage so furiously.

But, hours would have to elapse before Charles could venture to make for the opening.

"Oh, if Anna would but awake," sighed van Nerekool, who, not for an instant, had moved his eyes from the beloved object, "oh, that she would awake! In her own presence she would find a much more powerful protector than in me!"

His prayer was heard. Still insensible, Anna mechanically made an attempt to wipe away some drops of water from her brow. Charles tried to assist her in this, he tried to put up his handkerchief; but in doing so he had stooped and his hot feverish breath fell on the face and neck of the girl.

This startled Anna and, at length, she opened her eyes. She turned her head, she looked about inquiringly, not able to make out where she was; presently her eye fell upon Charles.

With a loud scream she made an effort to start up, "You, you here?" she exclaimed, and again she tried to rise and run away.

But van Nerekool gently put his arm round her waist, and drew her to his breast:

"Anna," said he, "dearest Anna, do take care, do be quiet--you will slip down--the sea is still much too high."

"You here!" she cried half-dazed, "I shall--I will--" And once again she attempted to wrench herself out of his arms.

"Anna," said he soothingly, "do be quiet, do be prudent! the rock is wet and slippery. Be careful, you are yet in great danger."

His voice was so low and he spoke so tenderly, that the young girl gave up her wild attempt. But when her eye fell upon her own person and she discovered in what a state she was lying in the young man's arms, she once again tried to shake herself free. The sea-water had washed the stain off her face, and the bright scarlet blush was now plainly visible as she cast down her eyes in dire distress.

"Leave me, Charles," she stammered in confusion, "do leave me!"

But he only clasped her tighter to his heart, and covered her face with burning kisses.

"Anna, I love you--Anna, I have found you again!" he exclaimed, passionately, "and never, never again shall I leave you."

"But, Charles, do have pity on me," pleaded the poor girl in faltering accents, as she again strove to free herself from his embrace, "yours I can, I may--never be."

"Anna," cried he huskily, as he pressed her closer and closer still to his breast.

She probably misunderstood his action--at all events she continued very, very sadly: "No, Charles, your wife I can never be--and--oh, you love me too well, do you not?--to have any other thoughts."

The poor girl said these words in a voice so unutterably sad that van Nerekool felt at once that he had unwittingly wounded her modesty. At once he released her, though he still kept his arm round her waist.

"But, Anna," said he, "why should you not become my wife?"

"No, never!" replied she resolutely. "Not then, and not now. I have given you my reason very fully. Now let me go."

"But, Anna," he persisted, "since that time circumstances have entirely changed."

"What circumstances?" she asked, looking up anxiously in the young man's face.

"Why, now your father and mother are dead--"

"What? father and mother dead?" exclaimed the poor girl, before the word had fairly left his lips.

He nodded assent. Anna covered her face with both hands and sobbed convulsively.

It was a very strange scene down there in that gloomy cave. Those two young people--one of them in his shirt sleeves--the other in her wet sarong and kabaja, indeed, one might say, scarcely dressed at all--sitting there side by side on a bare slab of rock. She with her face buried in her hands and sobbing as if her heart would break, he gazing down eagerly and lovingly upon her, striving, as it were, to fathom the thoughts which were rising in that maiden breast, and upon which he felt that his happiness depended.

"But, can it be true?" said she at last amidst the sobs which convulsively shook her entire frame, "can it be true? Oh, Charles, you could not be cruel enough to invent such a story. Charles, Charles, what am I to believe?"

"Anna, dearest Anna, what do you think of me? do you really think me capable of thus trifling with your most sacred feelings. Indeed, you are misjudging me, Anna."

She kept on weeping bitterly and was inconsolable. He gently drew her to him, trying to comfort her in her distress. And now she offered no resistance; but she rather nestled up to his breast. Now that she was an orphan, and that she knew she was alone in the world, she sought for protection with the man whom she had always faithfully loved.

"Both dead," she kept repeating again and again, "what did they die of? Oh, tell me how it happened! You have come straight from Santjoemeh, and you must know all about it."

"No, my love, on the contrary I know just nothing at all. When I left Santjoemeh both your parents were in excellent health and spirits. On the very morning when I set out with Grenits--"

"With Grenits?" asked Anna, "Theodoor Grenits? Is he with you here?"

"Yes, my love, he is--but, as I was saying, when we started, on that very morning Mr. and Mrs. van Gulpendam set out for Soeka maniesan."

"Soeka maniesan?" inquired Anna, "what place may that be?"

"It is a sugar factory situated in the extreme east of the Residence of Santjoemeh. It was not until after we had reached Gombong that we received tidings of the sad event. A telegram."

And then, in as few words as he could, he told the poor girl all he knew. It was not much and amounted simply to the fact that both the Resident and his wife had been murdered by a band of robbers. The letter in which van Rheijn promised to give further details was, no doubt, at that moment waiting for them at Gombong. When he had told Anna all he knew, van Nerekool paused for a few moments. He wished to give the poor girl time to recover, in some measure, from the terrible blow that had so suddenly fallen upon her. She was literally overwhelmed with sorrow and sat leaning up against him weeping bitterly. Her nature had but little in common with that of her parents. She herself had brought about the parting--of her own free will she had left her parents' roof, with the settled determination of never returning to it again. But now, death had stepped in--death had made that parting irrevocable--death had made a reunion impossible--and now, all her affections at once flew back to the beings to whom she owed her life. Now she clean forgot all the dreary past, she clean forgot all that was bad, only to remember, with the greater tenderness, whatever had been kind and good. Yes, she was, indeed and in truth, deeply affected, and, had it been in her power, she would have laid down her life to undo the past.

While they were sitting thus the ebb tide had fairly set in, and the water was beginning rapidly to draw back. Every successive wave, as it rushed into the cave, was less violent and retreated also more quietly. That went on until the fury of the water had entirely abated, and presently they were merely ripples that entered the Goewah Temon.

"Now, my dearest Anna," said van Nerekool, anxious to break the silence and to lead her thoughts into another channel, "now it is time to move, or else we might be surprised by another tide."

She raised her head and looked about her. When she saw that the sea was calm she also felt that no time was to be lost. She wiped away her tears.

"Yes," said she, "we must get out of this place; but, can you swim? For, you see, the water which is standing in the mouth of the cave yonder is much too deep to wade through. Yes? Then that is all right--there is no fear--we shall soon get to the ladder."

With these words she prepared to leave the stone on which they had found a safe resting-place, and was getting ready to slip into the water; but Charles kept her back, and gently pressing her to him, he said:

"After the terrible news you have just now heard from me it may not be right for me to speak of love. But, Anna, I have lately felt so utterly wretched, and, in these last few moments I have been so unspeakably happy! Promise me now, in this solemn place and in this solemn hour, that you will not again try to escape from me."

She looked up at him. There were tears in her eyes, there was an expression of heart-felt sorrow in her countenance, and she could not utter a single word.

"All obstacles," continued he, softly whispering in her ear, "are now removed. You are now your own mistress. Tell me, dearest Anna, may I hope?"

She turned away her head and laid her hand on his mouth. There was, in the midst of her sorrow, something playful in the action, and Charles caught that hand and covered it with kisses.

"Thanks!" he said, "thanks! Oh I know well that just now you can give me no other answer. Thanks again and again. But Anna, now we must take to the water, we must be off."

Both were on the point of entering the sea and beginning their perilous journey, when voices were heard outside the cave. Charles and Anna looked at one another in surprise; but in another moment they saw Dalima, Grenits, and Murowski, accompanied by a couple of Javanese, who--the reader knows in what manner--appeared in a canoe at the mouth of the cave.

"Great heavens!" exclaimed poor Anna, as she cast a look at her clothing. "And I in this wet dress!"

She blushed scarlet as she saw the sarong and kabaja clinging to her limbs. She felt, moreover, that Charles was gazing at her; and this only augmented her confusion. Charles, however, took up the coat on which she had been seated and offered it to her as a covering.

Meanwhile the little boat had been coming up and Grenits and Murowski, and especially Dalima, were beside themselves with joy when they found that the friends, whom they had given up for lost, were alive and well. The loerah of the dessa Ajo had flung a couple of sarongs into his boat before starting, to wrap up the bodies in, he had said, so certain was he that the pair must have perished. But, these two garments now came in very handy. Anna was able to wrap herself well in them, and in this Dalima was eager to help her. Then she stepped into the boat. In a few minutes they had left the Goewah Temon and, two hours later, Anna, Dalima, van Nerekool, Grenits and Murowski were safely and comfortably seated together in the little house on the slope of the Goenoeng Poleng.

At that meeting, plans for the future were very speedily determined upon, and the sun had scarcely reached the zenith, before Anna and Dalima were seated, each in a litter, and were on their way to Karang Anjer. The gentlemen formed the escort to the two litters; and a very formidable escort they looked, armed, as they were, with their fowling pieces.

At the house of the Steenvlaks Anna met with the most cordial reception. There she determined to remain until--Well, yes! until the days of her mourning were passed.

After all this had been properly settled the young men returned to Gombong. Theodoor and Charles at once went to the captain who was in command there, to take leave of him and to thank him for having granted their friend Murowski leave to accompany them.

"Well, gentlemen," cried the bluff but kind-hearted soldier as he caught sight of them, "have you had any luck?"

"Oh yes," cried Grenits, "we have had splendid success!"

"That is right, I am glad to hear it. And did you get any good specimens?"

"Glorious specimens, captain!" exclaimed Murowski, roguishly, "splendid specimens! Why, amongst others we have had the luck to catch a magnificent, a unique butterfly--a puella formosa."

"Very good, I wish you luck with the little beast, but for heaven's sake don't bother me with your Latin."

Even van Nerekool could not refrain from laughing as he thought of the little butterfly they had captured.

Fourteen months later Anna van Gulpendam and Charles van Nerekool became man and wife. The wedding took place very simply and without the slightest display, at the house of Assistant Resident Steenvlak. August van Beneden and Theodoor Grenits gave away the bride, and Edward van Rheijn and the Polish doctor Murowski were witnesses for the bridegroom.

At the conclusion of the marriage ceremony, who should suddenly turn up but William Verstork. After the death of Resident van Gulpendam, he had been at once recalled to Santjoemeh where his merits were well known and where he was highly esteemed. No one expected to see him at the wedding; for a telegram had brought the news that the steamer in which he travelled from Batavia had run ashore and had stuck fast somewhere about Tegal. But, when he found that getting the ship off the shallows would be a long business, Verstork had left her and gone ashore, and then had posted all the way to Karang Anjer. He was determined, at any cost, to be present at his friend's wedding. But, on his journey, he had been unavoidably delayed, and thus came too late to take part in the actual ceremony, though in ample time to join, on that auspicious day, in the warm congratulations which were showered on the young couple. Yes, if ever there were hearty congratulations and sincere good wishes they were indeed those which the young people received from the friends who, in the absence of nearer relations on either side, were then gathered around them.

After the wedding, Mr. and Mrs. van Nerekool started for Tjilatjap intending there to take the boat to Batavia where van Nerekool had obtained a judicial appointment. The others returned to their own spheres of work. Murowski remained at Gombong and the others went to Santjoemeh and resumed their everyday duties.

But all of them, to a man, were animated with one resolution and had determined that thenceforward it should rule all their actions. And that resolution was, to carry on war--implacable war--war à outrance against the horrors of the opium traffic. If they could only succeed in abolishing the fatal system of opium farming--if they could but succeed in preventing that poison from being forced upon the population, then they felt assured that abuse of opium would soon cease to be a curse of the fair island of Java; and that the opium-fiend would soon lose his power.

And now we conclude with the person who gives her name to this book.

We must tell our readers that a few months after baboe Dalima had found those whom she loved so faithfully and so well in the cave of the Karang Bollong mountain range, she became the mother of a dead child. That had been a great blow to her; for, in spite of the foul outrage of which she had been the victim, her warm little heart had eagerly looked forward to the advent of the little stranger. She had so looked forward to love the poor little thing. Oh, how tenderly she would have nursed it, how she would have fondled it and caressed it--as perhaps no other mother had ever done before her. Such were her dreams. She had already prepared its cradle. Not such a thing as we cold Western folk understand by the word; no, no, it was a very simple little basket, woven by her own fingers out of bamboo. But that little crib she had made so cosy, so comfortable; she had furnished it with the softest cushions and wrapped round it the best of her sarongs to keep away the mosquitoes by night and ward off the sun's rays by day. It would be a little nest which she would hang up in the front gallery of the small cottage in which she meant to take up her abode, and, as she softly would rock it to and fro she would play on the gambang and lull her little bird to sleep with her low sweet song.

Now, all that happiness was gone! The fatigue, the exertion which she had undergone, and all the anxieties of the terrible events through which she had passed; the dreadful suspense at the Goewah Temon in which she had so nearly lost her darling Nana, had proved too much for her.

Yes, she had been very very sad; but time heals even the deepest wounds. And then, after all, she was with her Nana and she intended to remain with her to her latest breath. She had travelled with Anna to Batavia, and there she settled down to be the baboe of the little van Nerekools who, she fervently hoped, would bless the union of her friends.

And anyone who knows the faithful affection with which the Javanese do attach themselves to their masters, if the latter will but treat them with anything like fairness and kindness, must feel certain that baboe Dalima will remain faithful to her trust until

THE END.

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