“That was usually in defence of someone else. He always took the side of the weaker.”
“Well, let everyone fight duels for himself, if one is determined to do so! As for me, I consider that duels are rarely necessary. If unavoidable, I should be prepared to accept a challenge, and in certain cases even be the challenger, but to make that sort of thing an everyday business . . . no, thanks! Let us hope he may have changed in that respect.”
“O, certainly, there is no doubt of that! He is so much older now, and then he has been married for years, and Assistant-Resident for quite a long time. Besides, I always heard it said that he had a kind heart, and a warm corner in it for justice.”
“Well, that will stand him in good stead in Lebak! Something has just happened to me that . . . do you think the Regent understands us?”
“I don’t think so. But show me something out of your bag, then he will think it is that which we are talking about.”
Duclari took his game bag, drew from it a couple of wood-pigeons, and feeling those birds as though he was talking about shooting, he told Verbrugge that only a moment ago a Javanese had run after him and asked him whether he could do nothing to lighten the burdens laid upon the population.
“And,” he continued, “this is very serious, Verbrugge! Not that I am astonished at the thing itself. I have been long enough in Bantam to know what happens here; but that a Javanese from among the populace, who is usually so cautious and reticent as regards his chiefs, asks such a thing from a person who is in no way directly concerned with it, this seems amazing to me!”
“And what did you answer?”
“Well, I said it was not my business! I told him to go to you, or to the new Assistant-Resident, when he should have arrived at Rangkas-Betoong, and lay his complaints there.”
“Eenee apa toowan toowan-datang!”[1] called suddenly the orderly Dongso. “I see a mantree who is waving his toodoong.”[2]
