"How the devil should I know?" Muller growled irritably. "All I know is what I told you—that the whole of Batavia says Bulungan is to have a new resident."
Van Slyck's face fell. He had hoped that the controlleur knew at least the identity of the new executive of the province. Having extracted all the information Muller had, he dropped the cloak of sympathy and remarked with cool insolence:
"Since you don't know, I think you had better make it your business to find out, mynheer."
Muller looked at him doubtfully. "You might make an effort also, kapitein," he suggested. "You have friends in Batavia. It is your concern as well as mine, a new resident would ruin our business."
"I don't think he will," Van Slyck replied coolly. "If he isn't one of us he won't bother us long. Ah Sing won't let any prying reformer interfere with business while the profits are coming in as well as they are."
A shadow of anxiety crossed Muller's face. He cast a troubled look at Van Slyck, who affected to admire the multi-tinted color display of jungle, sun, and sea.
"What—what do you mean, kapitein?" he asked hesitantly.
"People sometimes begin voyages they do not finish," Van Slyck observed. "A man might eat a pomegranate that didn't agree with him—pouf—the colic, and it is all over. There is nothing so uncertain as life, mynheer."
The captain replaced his cigar between his teeth with a flourish. Muller's pudgy hands caught each other convulsively. The folds under his chin flutterred. He licked his lips before he spoke.
"Kapitein—you mean he might come to an unhappy end on the way?" he faltered.