“Yes, Mr. Verbrugge! Please relieve Max,” said Madam Havelaar. Verbrugge hesitated for a moment; and began:
“Once upon a time there was a man, who stole a turkey.”
“Oh you rogue,” cried Havelaar, “that is from Padang! And how does it go on?”
“It is finished. Do you know the end of this story?”
“To be sure, I ate the turkey in company with … somebody. Do you know why I was suspended at Padang?”
“People said that there was a deficit in your cash at Natal,” replied Verbrugge.
“That is not altogether untrue, but neither is it true. From many causes I had been very careless in my pecuniary [[203]]responsibilities at Natal, on which many observations were made. But this happened in those days very often: matters in Northern Sumatra were, soon after the pacification of Baros, Tapos, and Singkel,[1] so confused, all was so turbulent, that fault could not be found with a young man who was more inclined to be on horseback than at the desk, or in keeping cash-books in order. It could not be expected that everything would be in such strict order as if an Amsterdam bookkeeper had been in charge with nothing else to do. The Battah-countries were in revolt, and you know, Verbrugge, how all that happens there reacts on Natal. I slept every night in my clothes, to be ready for anything: which was often necessary. Moreover there was danger,—a few days before my arrival a plot had been discovered to revolt and murder my predecessor, and danger has something attractive, above all to a man of twenty-two, and this attractiveness makes him the more incapable for office-work, or the stiff accuracy which is wanted for the proper management of money matters. Moreover, I had all sorts of nonsense in my head.…”
“It is not necessary,” said Madam Havelaar in reply to a man-servant. [[204]]
“What is not necessary?”
“I had told them to make something ready in the kitchen——an omelet—or some such thing.”