“But my dear Miss Anna, why then did you send for me? Just ask yourself that question?”
“Oh!” sighed Anna, “I was so over-anxious to save Dalima’s lover.”
“Just so,” replied he; “I can quite understand that; but in what way can I possibly serve you unless you will trust me with all that took place? As far as I can see at present, there seems not the remotest reason why Ardjan should be accused of this smuggling business. Do pray trust me, Miss Anna!”
“Oh! how I wish I could!” sighed the poor girl again. “How I wish I could; but it is so very hard.”
“What is your difficulty?” insisted the young man.
“That conversation between my father and Mr. Meidema,” replied she.
“But come,” she continued; “you are right; you must know everything or nothing. I will tell you all.”
Thereupon, burning with shame, the young girl repeated just what had passed between the two officials. She concealed nothing—neither the supposed value of the smuggled wares, nor Meidema’s suspicions as to their source, nor the examination of the chief servant. But when she came to reveal the fact that her father had, in a manner, forced the policeman to accuse Ardjan, the poor girl almost broke down.
Van Nerekool understood her confusion but too well, he knew enough and felt too deeply how humiliating was her position to wish to prolong the conversation. But before dismissing the subject he said:
“Just now you told me that Mr. Meidema had mentioned the name of the ship from whence he suspected the opium to have been brought. Do you happen to remember it?”