"It is not the custom in Batavia, captain, for officers of the garrison to be seated while their superiors stand."
For a moment the astonished captain lost his usual assurance. In that moment he unwittingly scrambled to his feet in response to the commanding look of the gray eyes that stared at him so steadily. The instant his brain cleared he regretted the action, but another lightning thought saved him from the folly of defying the resident by reseating himself in the chair he had vacated. Furious at Peter Gross, furious at himself, he struggled futilely for an effective reply and failed to find it. In the end he took refuge in a sullen silence.
Peter Gross turned again to Muller.
"Here are my credentials, mynheer, and a letter from his excellency, the governor-general," he announced simply.
With the words he placed in Muller's hands two envelopes plentifully decorated with sealing-wax stamped with the great seal of the Netherlands. The controlleur took them with trembling fingers. Peter Gross calmly appropriated a chair. As he seated himself he remarked:
"Gentlemen, you may sit."
Van Slyck ignored the permission and strolled to one end of the veranda. He was thinking deeply, and all the while stole covert looks at Peter Gross. Had he been mistaken, after all, in his estimate of the man? Was this apparent guilelessness and simplicity a mask? Were Koyala and Muller right? Or was the resident's sudden assumption of dignity a petty vanity finding vent in the display of newly acquired powers?
He stole another look. That face, it was so frank and ingenuous, so free from cunning and deceit, and so youthful. Its very boyishness persuaded Van Slyck. Vanity was the inspiration for the resident's sudden assertion of the prerogatives of his office, he decided, the petty vanity of a boor eager to demonstrate authority. Confidence restored, he became keenly alert for a chance to humble this froward Yankee.
It was some time before Muller finished reading the documents. He was breathing heavily the while, for he felt that he was reading his own death-warrant. There was no doubting their authenticity, for they were stamped with the twin lions of the house of Orange and the motto, "Je Maintiendrai." The signature at the bottom of each was the familiar scrawl of Java's gamecock governor.
Muller stared at them blankly for a long time, as though he half hoped to find some mitigation of the blow that swept his vast administrative powers as acting resident from him to the magistracy of a district. Dropping them on his lap at last with a weary sigh, he remarked: