Oh, no! Mrs. van Gulpendam had no objection whatever to Dalima’s going to Kaligaweh; on the contrary, she thought it very praiseworthy in the girl that she showed so much devotion to her parents. A honey-sweet smile hovered on her lips as she gave her gracious permission, and no one—least of all her pure and innocent daughter—could have guessed at the awful abyss of wickedness which lurked behind that sunny smile.
Highly pleased with the result of her attempt, Anna hastened with her good news to Dalima, and in the kindness of her heart she gave up a considerable portion of her night’s rest to assist her baboe in getting through her task of needle-work.
It is a dreadful thing to have to say; but Laurentia had not made that stipulation about finishing the work without an object. Her object was to delay Dalima’s departure, so that she might not reach the hut in the middle of the night, and, in the darkness, perhaps pass it unobserved. Diligently assisted by her mistress, the baboe was able to set out on her journey about three o’clock in the morning. After having affectionately taken leave, Dalima left the premises by the back-way through a small garden gate, of which Anna had procured her the key. This gate took her straight into the road which led over the hills to Kaligaweh. The moon was shining brightly in the heavens, and thus the girl was able to walk along rapidly, and soon she lost sight of Santjoemeh while not a single thought of danger crossed her brain.
Lim Ho had been informed by Singomengolo’s messenger that the pretty baboe had received the news of her father’s illness—the reader however knows that a far different calamity had befallen Setrosmito—so he said in a highly satisfied tone:
“That is all right. You must be tired out, and I don’t suppose you care to return to your hut to-night? Eh?”
“No, babah,” was the man’s answer.
“Very well, my people will show you a bedroom, you can go and have a rest. To-morrow I will pay you for your service.”
As soon as the fellow had disappeared, Lim Ho consulted his watch.
“Nearly one o’clock,” he muttered to himself, and then aloud he added:
“Than Loa, is the horse ready saddled?”