“Yes, Resident, I accuse the opium farmer of a gross attempt at bribery.”  
Such were the words with which Mr. Meidema concluded [322]his detailed account to Mr. van Gulpendam of what had taken place at his house that morning.
 
“Avast! Mr. Meidema, steady a bit! You are going ahead much too fast. Can you be quite sure that the five thousand guilders were concealed in that parcel of silk samples for the purpose of bribery?”
 
“I have already told you, Resident, that what he came for was to induce my wife to exert her influence over me in favour of Lim Ho. Yes, most decidedly. I know that the money was intended for a bribe.”
 
“But, Mr. Meidema,” observed the Resident, “would it not be much more charitable to suppose that Lim Yang Bing, who is, by nature, a kind and generous man, really felt some concern at your financial difficulties?”
 
“My financial difficulties!” exclaimed Meidema, fairly white with rage. “I should like to find out who spreads those absurd rumours. I am not rich, I admit; but if every man’s affairs were in as good order as mine! Then—”
 
“Let us not get out of our course, my dear sir,” remarked van Gulpendam, interrupting him at the right moment.
 
“Very good, Resident, I do not wish to do so; but who gives that confounded Chinaman any right to trouble himself about my private affairs. What right has he to offer my wife and daughters presents of five thousand guilders?”
 
“But, can you be sure it was meant for a gift?”
 
“What else could the money have been meant for?” asked Meidema.
 
“Well, I don’t know,” replied van Gulpendam, “but might not the notes have got mixed up with the samples of silk purely by accident? You ought to know how carelessly such fellows handle paper money, they sometimes have a whole bundle of it loose in their pockets. Now I am persuaded, on the contrary, that when presently you meet Lim Yang Bing the whole business will be explained to your satisfaction. I will send for him. Have you any objection?”
 
“None whatever, Resident; but the fellow may say or swear what he likes; it will not alter my opinion, and nothing will make me retract my charge against him.”
 
“Don’t be in such a hurry to blow off steam, Mr. Meidema, just allow me to prick your chart for you, and you will soon see that you are out of your course altogether.”
 
Hereupon van Gulpendam called one of his oppassers, and ordered the man to mount, and to ride off full speed to the [323]opium farmer’s house. “Tell him I want him to come to me at once.”
 
The two gentlemen had hardly spent half-an-hour in conversation on the ordinary topics of the day, when an elegant carriage, drawn by two splendid Persian horses, dashed up to the gate of the residential mansion. A few moments later a servant announced the opium farmer.
 
“Show him in,” said the Resident.
 
Lim Yang Bing sauntered into the room with his usual listless air and with the stereotyped smile on his lips. The oppasser had already told him that he would find the Assistant Resident of Police with his Excellency, and he looked upon this as a good sign; and had no doubt but that his troublesome smuggling question would be settled off-hand. He therefore greeted the gentlemen with great cordiality. “Tabeh, Kandjeng toean, toean!”
 
The Resident pointed to a chair, and as soon as Lim Yang Bing was seated, he began:
 
“Babah, Assistant Resident Meidema, fancies that he has reason to complain of your conduct.”
 
“No, no!” exclaimed Meidema, interrupting his superior officer, “I do not fancy anything of the kind, I actually do lodge an accusation against him.”
 
Both gentlemen spoke in Malay, and the Chinaman was thus able to understand all that was said.
 
“And what cause of complaint may he have?” asked the Celestial, with his imperturbable smile.
 
“You ask me,” replied Meidema, “what I accuse you of? I will tell you. I accuse you of offering me a bribe—to me, the head of the police!”
 
“I, Kandjeng toean?” asked the Chinaman, with well acted surprise. “When could I have done such a thing?”
 
“Not much more than an hour ago,” was the reply. “Just now, this very morning at my own house!”
 
“The toean Assistant Resident must be poking fun at me. It is true that I met him a little while ago; but I had not the honour of exchanging so much as a single word with him.”
 
“I know that well enough,” interrupted Meidema impetuously; “but did you not this morning call at my house?”
 
The Chinaman looked upon the interview as a farce, in which every actor had to play his part. He had often acted in such little plays himself and had performed pretty creditably on such occasions. He continued therefore; “Oh, yes, Kandjeng [324]toean, I did pay your ladies a visit, it was to invite you and them to the wedding, just in the same way, and for the same purpose, as I called at the Residence to invite the njonja and his Excellency.”
 
“Indeed!” said Meidema, sarcastically, “I suppose you came to offer silk dresses to the njonja Resident? Eh?”
 
Lim Yang Bing winced under the blow; and his sallow face grew several shades paler. It was beginning to dawn upon him that matters were serious after all, and, in some confusion, he glanced at the Resident; but van Gulpendam, who was seated directly opposite to the Assistant Resident, could not, just then, make him any sign; yet Lim Yang Bing thought he could detect an encouraging expression in the Resident’s eye.
 
“And,” continued Meidema, with increasing vehemence, “that you offered the njonja Resident a roll of bank-notes also. Did you not?”
 
As he spoke these words, he flung the money down before him on the writing-table as if it burned his fingers.
 
At this the Chinaman turned livid—for a moment he was utterly confounded.
 
“There! you see, Resident!” continued Meidema, pointing to the farmer. “You see! Why, guilt is written in every line of the fellow’s face!”
 
At these words Lim Yang Bing recovered his presence of mind, he jumped up at once, snatched up the crumpled notes, spread them out before him, and began deliberately to count them, “one, two, three, four—ten.” Then slowly raising his expressionless eyes to Meidema’s face, he asked:
 
“Does the toean Assistant Resident really intend to accuse me of attempting to bribe him?”
 
“Yes, babah, I do most decidedly accuse you of it.”
 
“But, may I ask, why then does not the Kandjeng toean give me back the whole sum?” asked the Chinaman, very composedly, and with the usual smirk on his lips.
 
“The whole sum?” cried Meidema, utterly taken aback, “what on earth can the fellow mean?”
 
“Yes, toean,” replied Lim Yang Bing, “I said, the whole sum. I have felt for some time that the toean Assistant Resident is by no means kindly disposed to me or mine; but I think it is not quite fair of him to fling me back a small part of my money, and so to try and ruin me, while he keeps back the greater part for himself.”
 
All this he said without showing the slightest emotion, without [325]the slightest heat, without so much as even raising his voice; but in the drawling sing-song way in which Chinamen generally speak; and with the obsequious smirk which Chinese features always wear when the owner is addressing a superior.
 
“Babah!” shouted Meidema trembling with rage, “take care of yourself, don’t go too far!”
 
But Lim Yang Bing felt his advantage, and was not to be intimidated. With the same false smile and in the same drawling tones he continued:
 
“But I clearly see what the toean Assistant Resident is aiming at. The greater part of the present which I took the liberty of offering to the njonja he keeps for himself, and to that he intends to add the fine which Lim Ho will have to pay, should he be found guilty of smuggling instead of Ardjan. It is not at all a bad idea, I admit; but I leave it to the Kandjeng toean to say whether he thinks it quite fair and honest.”
 
Meidema sat there as if thunderstruck. A terrible suspicion began to arise within him. Yes! his money matters were not by any means in a healthy state. His housekeeping was an expensive one, all that, he felt, was true enough. Could his wife under the hard pressure of circumstances—could she have been induced to yield to the temptation, might she possibly not have told him the whole truth? Might she perhaps have mentioned to him only part of the bribe she had received, just to see how he would take it? Yes! that must be it—His wife and his daughters! Yes! now it flashed across him that they seemed much confused when he came in. And then the line of conduct which he had adopted before the Resident who, he felt, was no friend to him—with an awful imprecation he sprang to his feet:
 
“Babah!” he exclaimed, “you are an impudent liar!”
 
“If the toean Assistant Resident becomes abusive,” said Lim Yang Bing with the same imperturbable calmness, “then I must request the Kandjeng toean to give me leave to retire.”
 
“Mr. Meidema,” said van Gulpendam sternly, “I must beg of you to moderate your language.”
 
“How much do you say there was in that packet?” asked Meidema, in despair.
 
“I offered the njonja Assistant Resident ten bank notes of a thousand, and ten of five hundred guilders.”
 
Poor Meidema fairly moaned with anguish and dismay.
 
“Is that true?” he asked again, with faltering tongue.
 
“I swear it!” was the quiet reply. [326]
 
“Oh! I must go and get to the bottom of this!” cried the wretched man, as he frantically rushed from the room.
 
The Chinaman and the Resident watched him with a curious smile.
 
“Splendidly parried, babah!” cried van Gulpendam admiringly, and then muttering to himself, he said: “I wonder what port that obstinate fool will make for in this storm.”
 
“Perhaps the Kandjeng toean will now allow me to retire?” asked Lim Yang Bing, with much humility.
 
“Certainly, babah, certainly, let me not detain you.” And, after the usual compliments had been exchanged, the Chinaman took his leave.
 
“Deep fellow that Chinaman, devilish deep! Aye, aye, those who dabble in opium must have their wits about them, they must know how to trim their sails!”
 
Foaming with rage, Meidema got home. He could not wait until his carriage had reached the door; it had scarcely got into the grounds, before he jumped out crying to the coachman, “Wait for me!”
 
He traversed the fore and inner galleries at a bound, and when he reached the back-room where the ladies of his family were still sitting at their needlework, he flew up to his wife, who, noticing at once his excited state, rose from her chair. He grasped both her wrists in his iron grasp, and, exerting all his strength, he forced her down on her knees before him.
 
All this had passed so quickly that, although the two girls had also sprung up, yet neither of them understood what was going on.
 
“There!” roared the infuriated husband, “there! that is your proper position! And now answer me. Where is the rest of the money?”
 
“What money?” asked his wife in alarm.
 
“The ten thousand guilders!” thundered Meidema.
 
“What ten thousand guilders?” asked his unhappy wife, still on her knees. “Meidema! let go my wrists, you are hurting me!”
 
“No, I shall not let you go until you have told me where you have hidden the money.”
 
“What money are you talking about?”
 
“The ten thousand guilders you had from the opium farmer!”
 
“Father,” said Gesina, “let mother go, and listen to me, I will tell you all about it.” [327]
 
“You!” roared her father without releasing his wife whom he still kept kneeling before him.
 
“I took the parcel from Lim Yang Bing,” continued the young girl. “It was I who opened it, and we all admired the samples of silk. At that time, I swear to you, father, there were no notes in it. I swear it by all that I hold dear! When mother refused to listen to his conditions, he put the parcel back into his pocket. Later on, mother consented to speak to you about Lim Ho and to consult you about the silk, then, the babah flung the parcel on the table and hurried away.”
 
“But the ten thousand guilders!” cried Meidema impatiently.
 
“Let me finish what I have to say, father,” continued the young girl. “As soon as he was gone I again took up the samples. And now I come to think of it, they were not the same we had admired before. At the time, however, I did not notice the change. I took one of the samples and spread it on my knee to bring out the effect of the colours, and then—the notes fell out of the packet to the floor.”
 
“Fifteen thousand guilders!” said the father who had been listening with impatience but had not lost a word.
 
“No, father, not fifteen thousand; there were ten five hundred guilder notes. There were no more than that,” replied the girl in a firm and steady voice.
 
“Is that the truth?” asked her father as he fixed his eye on his wife and children.
 
But there was so much honesty and innocence in the eyes of his twins; and his wife looked up at him so firmly and trustfully, that further doubt was impossible, while all three as with one mouth and in one breath said:
 
“That is the truth.”
 
Then the wretched man raised his wife from the floor where she was still on her knees before him. He clasped her in his arms and, as he pressed her to his heart, he cried in a lamentable voice:
 
“My God! my God! I am a miserable wretch! I have dared to suspect my darlings—the only ones I love upon earth!”
 
And, stretching out his arms, he flung them round the neck of his wife and children as sobbing, he cried: “Oh, my dearest ones, can you ever forgive me?”
 
Standing thus, the four formed a group which would have charmed a sculptor; but which must have filled with rapture [328]the heart of any true friend of man. The wife, the daughters, overwhelmed the man, who a moment before had so bruta............