'No, sir; but there is a man on the "Alert" whom he saved at that time.'
'Indeed! What is his name?'
'Readyman. He told me all about the wreck.'
'And that is why you two have always been such friends,' Captain Thorne laughed. 'He is a good and steady man.'
'Well, Jack,' Mr. Sergeant continued, 'I am taking the captain and you for a drive up-country. If you don't enjoy it, do not put the blame on me. All aboard!'
They were soon seated in the car. Mr. Sergeant took the reins, and away at top speed went the ponies, each apparently bent on having 'a good time,' as their master said, and thoroughly enjoying the beautiful cool breeze. That drive was long remembered by the youngest of the party. The night and the breeze were delightful. Numberless stars twinkled brilliantly, the outlook was wonderfully clear, and the lights of Batavia soon disappeared.
For a while the flat and dusty road proved somewhat monotonous. Gradually, however, they began to ascend to higher levels, and the flat and unhealthy neighbourhood of Batavia loomed dimly far below them, till wholly obscured in the night gloom. The country soon became more thickly timbered, and trees lined the well-kept road for considerable distances. Myriads of fire-flies flitted about the foliage, and with the accurate knowledge of the highway possessed by the driver, rapid progress was made. Here and there Mr. Sergeant pointed out the residences of certain wealthy Dutch planters, and he also supplied the strangely-sounding names of villages passed through.
Shortly after two o'clock next morning he pulled up before a house owned by a cheery-faced but exceedingly rotund little Dutchman, and by him the party was most kindly welcomed.
They had evidently been expected. Light refreshment was served, and almost asleep Jack Clewlin finally tumbled into a home-like bed, and remembered no more of his first night drive in Java.
Shortly after six o'clock he was aroused. In the bathroom, which was really a screened-off portion of an open scullery, he found a small basin of water and a large wooden spoon awaiting his convenience. Such a primitive arrangement provoked a laugh, but the 'sprinkle' was nevertheless enjoyed, and he speedily joined his friends. He felt prodigiously hungry, but presently discovered that nothing like a solid English breakfast was forthcoming, and that only a cup of coffee with some fruit was served. As a matter of fact, the European residents never partook of any real meal before the usual twelve o'clock 'rice-table.'