A gaudily dressed Javanese servant immediately made his appearance, walked up to the divan, and, squatting down before it, placed his hands to his forehead, and obsequiously made his “sembah.”
“Do you think, Drono,” asked Lim Ho, “that Singomengolo is still at Santjoemeh?”
“I saw him only this morning, babah,” replied Drono, as he repeated his sembah.
“Then run and fetch him at once,” said his master. “You will find him, I have no doubt, somewhere about the opium-store. Tell him I want to speak to him. Make haste!”
“Sajah babah,” said the man, as he glided back a few paces, then rose, and with his face still turned to his master, made his way out of the room.
“Yes,” continued Lim Ho to himself, pursuing the thoughts which the entrance of the servant had interrupted. “Yes, if it were but for a few weeks, in that time, I have no doubt, I could find some means of enticing little Dalima. The njonja Resident might be most useful to me in this. But it will cost money! No matter, there is no lack of that!”
He rose again and struck the gong, and another Javanese servant presented himself.
“Has Drono gone yet?” asked Lim Ho.
“Not yet, babah,” was the man’s reply, “but he is just about to start.”
“Very well, then run and call him back,” ordered Lim Ho.