“Why do you think so, Cong?”
“He no big enough fool do dat.”
This might be true. Sindo had once got into trouble through treason, and had narrowly escaped death. He would be a fool to incur such a danger again, in the new home he had found for himself.
This was the construction Groot Willem was inclined to put on the African’s conduct. Sindo was acting ungratefully. He had not shown the slightest sympathy for those who had befriended him in his hour of adversity. On the contrary, he had cut their acquaintance in the most unceremonious manner.
All night long they lay in their thongs. Morning came and still they were not set free.
“What does this treatment mean?” asked Hendrik. “What do they intend doing with us?”
“I am beginning to have fears that Congo is right,” answered Willem. “They do mean harm. They have robbed and kept us tied up all night. Those acts look suspicious.”
“But dare they deprive us of life?” asked the ex-cornet. “We are white men, and of a race who avenge each other’s wrongs. Will they not be afraid of the consequences of proceeding to extremities?”
“So I once would have thought,” replied Willem, “but from the way we are now treated, I believe they fear nothing.”
“I tell you, baas Willem,” joined in Congo, “the chief here got too much fear.”