“Usher,” he said at length with much dignity, “you must see that silence is kept in court.”
The man thus addressed was a sjenjo or half-caste—he rushed up and down the pandoppo in frantic endeavours to enforce the order he had received, “Hush, hush, silence! Silence, ladies and gentlemen!” he bawled at the top of his voice, thus making more noise than all the company put together.
Again the hammer came down, and the president himself called: “Silence.”
“Silence!” shouted the usher imploringly, as he stretched out his arms and looked as if he were going to swim, or was trying to lay a tempest.
At length he succeeded in controlling those unruly tongues. One of the very last to give way was Laurentia—“who had a right to interfere with her—the Resident’s wife? Those gentlemen on the bench are always giving themselves such airs!”
Presently, however, even her chatter ceased. Once again the president brought down his hammer.
“The session is opened,” said he; “constables bring the prisoner forward!”
One of the oppassers hereupon drew Setrosmito to the foot of the steps and made him squat down in front of the table. The poor fellow looked a wretched object indeed. The months he had passed in prison had effectually done their work upon him. He was frightfully lean, and the warm brown colour of his skin had turned a dusky grey. His long lank hair, which here and there straggled from under his head-dress, had turned grey—nay white. As he advanced he looked timidly around him, he cast one imploring glance at van Beneden, who gave him a friendly nod and a smile of encouragement, and then, submissively, he squatted down in the spot to which the policeman pointed.
When first Setrosmito came forward some one uttered a loud heart-rending shriek of Ah God!—this cry was followed by the usher’s cry for silence.
At the back of the pandoppo several Javanese women were huddled together. They were the friends of Setrosmito’s wife, who had accompanied her into the court. She it was who had uttered the wail which made all the spectators turn their heads. She had not been able to restrain her feelings at the sight of the wretched object in which she could hardly recognise her husband. Van Nerekool at once hurried up to the poor creature, he got one of the regent’s servants to give her a kind of stool, and then he tried to quiet her.