A faint smile passed over the Chinamen’s wan and yellow features; they bowed their thanks as they cast significant looks at one another. Then they followed their fair guide through the inner gallery into the pandoppo. A large table stood there bearing a number of trays full of champagne glasses, while, under the table, might be seen little tubs of ice, in which the bottles with their silvered corks were neatly arranged.
“Open the champagne!” cried Laurentia to three or four attendants who stood by.
The corks popped, and in a few moments all the babahs, rich and poor, were standing glass in hand eager to be allowed the honour of touching glasses with the Njonja-Resident.
As a rule, your Chinaman is a great stickler for etiquette; and, on any ordinary occasion, they would no doubt have sipped their wine leisurely, with half-closed eyes as they have seen Europeans do; but now they behaved in a widely different manner. For fair Laurentia had informed them that, when they had the honour of drinking with a njonja, the glass must be emptied at a single draught.
“The gentlemen call that ad fundum,” remarked the Chinese major.
“Just so, babah,” replied Laurentia as she gave him a sly nudge.
In an instant every cup was drained.
“Fill the glasses!” she cried; and from that moment Mrs. van Gulpendam kept the waiters busy. On one pretext or another, she took care that the glasses were kept filled and that their contents were duly and speedily disposed of.
Meanwhile the Resident himself had been engaged in conversation with his friends and subordinates in the front gallery.
“What has become of our babahs?” he asked presently. “Come, gentlemen, I do not think we shall have cause to repent if we go and look them up. It is frightfully hot here. Don’t you think so?”