there, and paid him a visit. . . . . Do you now remember, Tine. why I came to Tji-andjoor?”
“No, Max, I have quite forgotten that.”
“Well, who can remember everything? . . . . I was married there, gentlemen!”
“But,” asked Duclari, “as you have told us several things, is it true that you fought so many duels at Padang?”
“Yes, I fought very often. There were many reasons for that. I told you already, that the favour of the Governor in such an out-of-the-way place is the rule with which many measure their friendliness. Most of them were very ill-disposed towards me, and this often showed itself in rudeness. I, on the other hand, was very sensitive. A salutation not acknowledged, a taunt on the folly of one who would take up the cudgels with the General, an allusion to my poverty, my state of starvation, the poor food, that seemed to be the reward of moral independence—all this, you conceive, made me bitter: Many, above all amongst the officers, knew that the General liked to see people duelling, and, above all, with one so much in disgrace as I was. Perhaps, therefore, my sensitiveness was intentionally excitedlikewise I sometimes fought for somebody else, whom I considered to be wronged.However this may be, duelling was the order of the day, and it often happened that I had two meetings in one morning; there is something very attractive in duelling, particularly with the sabre. Yet you under-
