“As I was leaving the court I ordered the usher to write, from my dictation, a paper summoning Mr. Zuidhoorn and all the members of the court to clear out of the premises.”
“Sharp practice that!” remarked van Gulpendam.
“Do you not approve of my conduct, Resident?”
“Of course, most certainly I do; but what took place next?”
“The poor devil of an usher was so utterly dumfoundered that he could not hold a pen, and it was no use therefore to dictate anything to him. I then gave him the message to deliver verbally.”
“Yes—and then?” asked van Gulpendam.
“Then I came away to tell you.”
“But I suppose,” continued van Gulpendam—“you, Mr. Thomasz, will be able to tell us what happened?”
“When the usher again entered the court,” resumed the deputy-recorder, “he stammered forth a few incoherent and utterly unintelligible words, to which Mr. Zuidhoorn did not pay the slightest heed. He brought his hammer down, declared the session open, and turned to the chief djaksa to request him to read out the first charge.”
“What case was it, Mr. Thomasz?” asked van Gulpendam with some curiosity.