These two last cases Mr. Zuidhoorn had read so slowly and so deliberately that he seemed almost to spell every syllable; then, for a while, he stood lost in thought, while he put his finger to his forehead.
“How could I have forgotten that? And van Nerekool, who so recently talked the whole of this business over with me!—And—the day after to-morrow I must be off to Holland!
“Well, no matter, those cases must be disposed of to-day, and they shall be disposed of at any price! I shall see about that!”
Yes, the judge would see; but not in the sense in which he meant it; he would see that the court was not to sit at all that day.
When he had got thus far in his soliloquy, the door opened, and the Regent of Santjoemeh appeared, and with him came one of the most considerable of the native chiefs of the Residence, Radhen Ngahebi Wirio Kesoemo. They were both members of the court, and it was their turn to be in attendance. They were accompanied by the panghoeloe or priest, carrying the inevitable Koran in his hand. Both the former dignitaries confirmed the statement of the deputy-recorder, and told Mr. Zuidhoorn that the Resident had expressly forbidden them to attend the court on that day. “But,” they continued, “since the Kandjeng toean judge has summoned us, we feel it our duty to obey his commands.”
“But,” asked the president, “what reason does the Resident give for this prohibition?”
The Regent merely shrugged his shoulders and, very prudently, made no reply. Radhen Ngahebi however said:
“Yesterday I called upon the Resident, and then the Kandjeng toean informed me that, after having got leave of absence, you were no longer qualified to take the chair at the sessions; and that it was for that reason he had sent the letter.”
Mr. Zuidhoorn smiled contemptuously; but, in the presence of natives, he refrained from uttering a single word which might have even a semblance of questioning the authority of the highest official who was the representative of the Dutch power in Santjoemeh. Indeed he scarcely had time to speak, for very soon after the Javanese chiefs and the Chinese assessors also entered the pandoppo. They very cautiously and with infinite circumlocution informed the toean lakkel, thus they pronounced the word “rakker” which signifies judge, that they were not to blame for arriving so late.
At length the chief djaksa appeared. He made a ceremonious bow to the chairman and to the other members of the court and said, that he had that very morning been summoned into the presence of the Resident, and that he had, from his lips, received a peremptory order not to attend the court.