covered the spot where there had been much suffering. There are many such spots in Lebak.
Saïdyah was already fifteen when his father left Buitenzorg. He did not accompany him thither, because he carried greater projects in his mind. He had been told that in Batavia there were so many gentlemen who drove in bendies, a kind of tilbury, that he might find a place there as a bendie-boy, for which someone is usually chosen who is still young and not full-grown, so that he may not upset the balance of the two-wheeler by bearing with too much weight on the back. There was, he had been assured, with good conduct, much to be earned in such service. Perhaps in this manner he might even, within three years’ time, save enough money to buy two buffaloes. This prospect lured him. With proud step, as one who has big business in mind, he entered Adinda’s house after his father’s departure, and informed her of his plan.
“Just think,” he said, “when I return we shall be old enough to get married, and we shall have two buffaloes!”
“Very well, Saïdyah! I shall be glad to be married to you when you return. I shall spin, and weave shawls and skirts, and paint, and be very industrious all the time.”
“Oh, I believe you, Adinda! But . . . if I should find you married?”
“Saïdyah, you know very well that I shall marry no one. My father promised me to your father.”
“And you yourself?”
“I shall marry you, rest assured!”
“When I come back, I shall call from afar. . . .”
“Who will be able to hear that, when we are pounding rice in the village?”
“That is true. But, Adinda . . . Oh, yes, this is better: wait for me near the diati-wood, under the ketapan-tree, where you gave me the melatti-flower.”
“But, Saïdyah, how shall I know when I am to go and wait for you near the ketapan?”
