“Well, I don’t know,” replied van Gulpendam, “but might not the notes have got mixed up with the samples of silk purely by accident? You ought to know how carelessly such fellows handle paper money, they sometimes have a whole bundle of it loose in their pockets. Now I am persuaded, on the contrary, that when presently you meet Lim Yang Bing the whole business will be explained to your satisfaction. I will send for him. Have you any objection?”
“None whatever, Resident; but the fellow may say or swear what he likes; it will not alter my opinion, and nothing will make me retract my charge against him.”
“Don’t be in such a hurry to blow off steam, Mr. Meidema, just allow me to prick your chart for you, and you will soon see that you are out of your course altogether.”
Hereupon van Gulpendam called one of his oppassers, and ordered the man to mount, and to ride off full speed to the opium farmer’s house. “Tell him I want him to come to me at once.”
The two gentlemen had hardly spent half-an-hour in conversation on the ordinary topics of the day, when an elegant carriage, drawn by two splendid Persian horses, dashed up to the gate of the residential mansion. A few moments later a servant announced the opium farmer.
“Show him in,” said the Resident.
Lim Yang Bing sauntered into the room with his usual listless air and with the stereotyped smile on his lips. The oppasser had already told him that he would find the Assistant Resident of Police with his Excellency, and he looked upon this as a good sign; and had no doubt but that his troublesome smuggling question would be settled off-hand. He therefore greeted the gentlemen with great cordiality. “Tabeh, Kandjeng toean, toean!”
The Resident pointed to a chair, and as soon as Lim Yang Bing was seated, he began:
“Babah, Assistant Resident Meidema, fancies that he has reason to complain of your conduct.”
“No, no!” exclaimed Meidema, interrupting his superior officer, “I do not fancy anything of the kind, I actually do lodge an accusation against him.”