“I mean that your statement directly contradicts the word of your daughter.”
“My daughter—the chatter of a silly girl!”
“Not so, Resident,” continued Meidema, very seriously, “I have in my possession a formal statement in Miss van Gulpendam’s own handwriting, in which she gives a detailed account of baboe Dalima’s abduction, of her forcible detention on board the schooner brig Kiem Ping Hin, and of her rescue by Ardjan.”
Van Gulpendam turned pale at those words, he felt as if he had received a stunning blow; Mr. Meidema, however, did not allow him time to recover his composure, but continued:
“I have further in my possession the sworn testimony of the mate and the crew of the coastguard ship Matamata, which proves that on the night in question they manned the cutter in order to give chase to a surf-boat which contained two persons. That they fired upon them; but that they were compelled to give up the chase because of the tremendous sea that was running at Moeara Tjatjing in which their clumsy craft would have had no chance to keep afloat. Thus you perceive, Resident, that there were actually two persons in that boat, and that, consequently, there could have been no room for the opium. Moreover—”
“What else?” broke in van Gulpendam, who was gradually recovering from his surprise.
“Moreover, the surf-boat was dashed to pieces on the beach. I saw the wreck lying partly in the water and partly covered with mud, and I have witnesses to prove that the cases, in which the smuggled opium was packed, had not been in contact with sea-water at all. No, no, Resident, I am firmly persuaded that the stuff never came ashore in that boat, and further, that Ardjan has had no hand in the transaction.”
For a few moments the Resident sat lost in thought.
“Mr. Meidema,” he said at length, “have you, as you were bound to do, employed an expert to ascertain the quantity, the quality, and the particular kind of opium that was found?”
“Yes, Resident, I have done so.”