“And—?”
“I could learn nothing from her. The njonja confessed that she knew where you were; but she refused to tell me—she said she had promised not to let anyone know.”
Anna drew a deep sigh of relief.
“But how then did you manage to find me, Dalima?” she asked.
“Well, Nana, how shall I tell you that? It is such a long story. I have been wandering about in all directions, I have made inquiries everywhere. I asked at the posting-houses, at the loerahs of each dessa I passed through. I questioned the gardoes and the stall-keepers on the road. In fact I asked everywhere and everybody. In my wanderings, at length I happened to come to the dessa Pembanan.”
“The dessa Pembanan!” cried Anna in the greatest agitation.
“Yes,” resumed Dalima, “that’s where I found the first trace. You took a cup of coffee there at a stall while you had to wait for the pole of your sedan to be repaired.”
Anna glanced down uneasily at her yellow-stained hands.
“Oh! it is no use looking at your hands,” continued Dalima with a smile. “The old stall-keeper has sharp eyes and the stain could hardly deceive her. She guessed at once that you were either a nonna or a princess.”
“Well, go on!” sighed Anna.