Baboe Dalima; or, The Opium Fiend

by M. T. H. Perelaer

August van Beneden however stood up for the defence, and drew the attention of the court to the fact that the small box which had been produced, was precisely similar to that other one which the bandoelan pretended to have discovered in the hut of Setrosmito the defendant’s father. He further mentioned the rather strange coincidence, that, on the body of Singomengolo, after his murder, a number of other little boxes were found, all precisely similar again to that produced against Dalima. He called the coppersmith from whom the bandoelan had procured these boxes, and this man swore that Singomengolo had bought twelve of them from him, at the price of seven guilders.

August van Beneden took advantage of this man’s evidence to remind the court of the dodges and tricks which all opium hunters were well known to employ in order to secure the conviction of any one they might accuse. Finally he altogether disputed the authority of the individuals who had testified to the nature and value of the opium. The document they had drawn up as containing the result of their examination, he rejected as absolutely valueless; inasmuch as it was the work of Chinamen who were no chemists at all; but had come to the conclusion that the drug could not have been obtained through the regular channels, simply on the evidence of colour, taste, and smell. He pointed out that, as a general rule, the worst opium smugglers were the farmers themselves, and that, in hardly any two cases were their wretched mixtures alike. In fact he defied even the most expert chemist to establish anything like perfect similarity between two different decoctions of the same farmer.

The young advocate was completely successful; and the court at Santjoemeh declared that the charge against baboe Dalima had not been satisfactorily established, and therefore acquitted her. She was set at liberty there and then, and the treasury was ordered to pay the costs of the prosecution.

The verdict was hailed with thundering applause, and the public became so demonstrative that the president had peremptorily to call for silence. Mokesuep left the court amidst looks and gestures of the most profound contempt and much hissing and hooting. He got into his carriage as quickly as he could and immediately drove off. It was evident that the public was well aware of what had taken place in the hut by the Djoerang Pringapoes, and that everybody knew the odious part Mokesuep had played in the transaction.

The trial was no sooner over than a crowd of well-wishers surrounded the unfortunate Javanese girl Every one could plainly enough see the painful situation she was in, and pitied her accordingly. Had the law allowed further inquiry, Lim Ho might have found himself in a difficult position; but as no legal remedy existed, the public showed the greatest sympathy towards his victim. On all sides she received congratulations on the happy issue of her trial, on all sides she heard kind words and friendly offers. Van Nerekool, Grenits, Grashuis, van Rheijn, and van Beneden, were of course close to the poor creature who, though deeply moved by the sympathy she received, yet could not refrain from shedding tears of sorrow as she thought of her blighted youth. Van Nerekool proposed to place her in the house of an aged couple where she might be sure of the kindest treatment in return for such services as she could render to the mistress of the house. Dalima heartily thanked the young judge for his great kindness; but she told him that she intended to take up her abode with her mother until after the event she was expecting. The poor girl was a genuine child of nature, and felt no false shame as she spoke of her misfortune. She took that opportunity, however, to gain some information about nonna Anna. But, as we know, Charles van Nerekool could tell her nothing more than that her young mistress had spent some time at Karang Anjer, and thereupon had disappeared without leaving any clue as to her whereabouts.

“Karang Anjer? where is that?” asked Dalima, musingly.

Van Nerekool gave her the necessary directions, and then he proceeded to join his friends whom Grenits had invited to his house to drink a glass together in honour of van Beneden’s victory. It was getting somewhat late in the day and the sun’s rays darting down almost perpendicularly made the heat most oppressive; but a good pair of horses soon brought our friends to Grenits’ door.

Glad enough to get under cover, they all rushed in, and Grenits at once cried out to his servant, “Sidin, get us some fizz quickly!” and a few moments after the young men were congratulating van Beneden on his well-merited success in a glass of sparkling Veuve Clicquot.

After the first burst of excitement was over, and when they had begun to discuss somewhat more calmly the incidents of the trial, a feeling of disappointment began to prevail.

“Is it not enough to make one despair altogether of the future of our fair Indian possessions,” cried Grashuis, “when we come to think that we are sitting here congratulating one another on the issue of such a case as this? Every single person, including even the members of the court itself, is convinced that poor little Dalima is the victim of a most detestable outrage and yet, not only does the real culprit escape scot free, but the innocent girl herself was very near being found guilty, and punished for a purely imaginary offence! Could such a thing ever have happened at home? There must be something radically wrong in our entire colonial system.”