“In the Moeara Tjatjing,” said van Gulpendam, musingly; “what brought him there, I wonder?”
“He had just escaped with me,” sobbed Dalima.
“That’s it, now what did I tell you!” almost shrieked Laurentia.
“From the ship,” added poor Dalima, between her sobs.
“Aye, no doubt!” cried her mistress. “Run away from this house. That is nearer the truth!”
“For goodness sake,” said the Resident, apart to his wife, “let the girl get under weigh, or else we shall never get to land,” and turning to Dalima, he said: “Now come, first of all, let us hear how you got on board the ship.”
Thereupon, the poor girl, still seated cross-legged on the floor, began to tell her master all that had befallen her from the time of her forcible abduction out of his garden, to the moment that she had succeeded in gnawing through the ropes which bound her, and had taken to headlong flight.
Just as the girl was beginning her tale, Anna had quietly re-entered the pandoppo, and thus heard the whole story.
“Well,” said the Resident, when Dalima had ended the story of her woes. “Well, that is a curious tale certainly; and now what about Ardjan—did you leave him behind you at the Moeara Tjatjing?”
“Why, sir,” replied Dalima, “he could not move, he was tied hand and foot when the two Chinamen carried him off on the pole. They could not, however, have taken him very far; for scarcely had I got my feet free, before I saw their lanterns shining between the trees, and heard their voices approaching. Had it been light enough they must have seen me running away, and most probably I should never have got clear of them at all.”