“But,” cried Nerekool, in extreme perplexity, “what is it you require me to do?”
“Ardjan and his father must both be transported,” said Mrs. van Gulpendam, most resolutely. “Where to?—that matters but little—to Deli, to Atjeh—Yes, Atjeh, perhaps, would be the better place.”
“They will be transported,” said Van Nerekool, with equal resolution, “both of them, if they are found guilty.”
“Guilty or not guilty!” exclaimed Mrs. van Gulpendam, “you will do as I tell you!—Or else—no presidency—You will do as I tell you—or else, depend upon it—no Anna!”
The blood flew up into the face of the upright young judge at this intolerable dictation. His whole mind and soul rebelled against such gross injustice. He dropped the arm of the fair temptress, and, without reflecting, he hissed rather than spoke in the heat of his indignation.
“Madam, I love your daughter, I dearly love Anna; but to purchase her hand at that price—the price of my own dishonour—Never, never!”
“Never?” sneered Laurentia.
“No, madam, never, never!” exclaimed van Nerekool. “Why, she herself would be the very first to despise and reject me, could I be guilty of such baseness and accept so odious an offer. But,” continued he, suddenly changing his tone, “surely all this is but a jest, surely you are not in earnest!”
“I am in right—downright earnest,” said Laurentia, sternly. “It is my last word to you—it is war or peace between us—I leave it to your own choice.”
“I would not willingly make an enemy of anyone,” said van Nerekool, very sadly; “but a clear conscience is to me precious above all things. Farewell, madam.”