He glanced at her reprovingly. "You haven't been here much this week; this is only the second time."
A mysterious light flashed in Koyala's eyes, but Peter Gross was too intent on admiring her splendid physical sufficiency to notice it.
"You are very busy, Mynheer Resident," Koyala purred. "I take too much of your time as it is with my trifling complaints."
"Not at all, not at all," Peter Gross negatived vigorously. "The more you come, the better I am pleased." Koyala flashed a swift glance at him. "Come every day if you can. You are my interpreter, the only voice by which I can speak to the people of Bulungan and be heard. I want you to know what we are doing and why we are doing it; there is nothing secret here that you should not know."
He leaned forward earnestly.
"We must work out the salvation of Bulungan together, juffrouw. I am relying very much upon you. I cannot do it alone; your people will not believe in me. Unless you speak for me there will be misunderstandings, maybe bloodshed."
Koyala's eyes lowered before his beseeching gaze and the earnestness of his plea.
"You are very kind, mynheer," she said softly. "But you overestimate my powers. I am only a woman—it is the Rajahs who rule."
"One word from Koyala has more force in Bulungan than the mandate of the great council itself," Peter Gross contradicted. "If you are with me, if you speak for me, the people are mine, and all the Rajahs, Gustis, and Datus in the residency could not do me harm."
He smiled frankly.