Page:Max Havelaar Or The Coffee Sales of the Netherlands Trading Company Siebenhaar.djvu/272

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256
Max Havelaar

longer hid in the hedge as he had done three years before, when the Resident drove past, he that had seen the much greater lord who lives at Buitenzorg, and who is the grandfather[1] of the prince of Solo? Was it to be wondered that he paid little attention to the stories of people who walked with him part of the way and told him all the news of Bantan Kedool? That he scarce listened when he was told that the coffee-culture, after much unrewarded labour, had been entirely abandoned? That the District-Chief of Parang-Koodyang had been sentenced, for robbery on the public road, to fourteen days’ detention in the house of his father-in-law? That the head-centre had been removed to Rangkas-Betoong? That a new Assistant-Resident had arrived because the previous one had died a few months since? And how this new official had spoken at the first meeting of the sebah? How for some time now no one had been punished on any charge, and how it was hoped among the population that all that had been stolen would be returned or made good?

No, before his soul’s eye there were sweeter visions. He looked in the clouds for the ketapan-tree, as he was still too far to find it at Badoor. He grasped at the surrounding air, as though he would embrace the form that would be waiting for him under that tree. He pictured to himself Adinda’s face, her head, her shoulder . . . he saw the heavy hair-tress, so shining black, caught in its own loop, hanging down on her neck . . . he saw her large eyes, lustrous in dark reflection . . . the nostrils she so proudly drew up as a child, when he—how was it possible!—teased her, and the corner of her lips wherein she kept a smile. He saw her breast, that would now be swelling under the shawl . . . he saw how the garment which she herself had woven narrowly enclosed her hips, and, following the thigh in its curve, fell along the knee in beautiful waving lines on to the small foot.

No, he heard but little of what people told him. He heard very different notes. He heard how Adinda would say: “Be welcome,

  1. A naïve native conception.