“You see, my dear fellow,” continued Verstork, “this is the most favourable result we could anticipate. Removed to Atjeh! that is to say struck off from the list of the Home Department of Java and Madura. It is simply a degradation. Are these the principles which animate our rulers? The state of society out here is rotten—rotten to the core!”
“No, no!” cried van Nerekool, with animation, “don’t say that—there is one part of that society which is sound and undefiled, and which stands high above the tricks and paltry intrigues of the ruling powers—and that is the judicature. The power of the law will succeed in bridling and subduing the monster of injustice and tyranny.”
Charles van Nerekool spoke these words with all the enthusiasm of truth—he was fully persuaded of the truth of his assertion. Verstork looked at his friend and a bitter smile came over his troubled countenance. He did not, however, say a single word, he would not disturb the day-dream of his friend—the future, he knew, would soon enough dissipate his fond illusions.
Banjoe Pahit, that quiet and secluded dessa, was, on Monday morning, the scene of the greatest excitement.
At the gate of the Controller’s house a Javanese stood striking measured blows on the gong, and that unwonted noise brought the entire population around him. Within the house, Grenits, Grashuis, and van Nerekool were busily employed helping Verstork to set out the furniture, which, presently, was to be offered for sale, to the best advantage. In one place a writing-desk had to be placed in a more prominent position—in another a cupboard or table had to be re-arranged. Pictures also and statuettes had to be placed in the most favourable light; for Grenits, with the true eye of a commercial man, knew that, next to advertising, a tasteful exhibition of the articles would attract the attention of the buyers.
At length all was considered in readiness, and it was with a kind of mournful satisfaction that the friends walked through the apartments, surveying and admiring the arrangement in which they had borne a principal share. In the back galleries especially, where the glass, the crystal and the dinner-services were displayed, their finishing touches had been remarkably successful.
Everything looked so neat, and in such perfect order, that Grenits could not help exclaiming:
“No one would think that these are bachelor’s quarters! William, I can promise you an excellent sale.”
Meanwhile the gong kept on clanging incessantly.