“He produced them as a proof that you had been drowned, for he told us they had been found in the river,” said I.
“The cruel, bad man! then he was at the bottom of it all: he wanted to get my fortune! But,” she continued, “my fears were groundless, for, as soon as I had changed my attire, he came into the room, and, rebandaging my eyes, led me forth and set me before him upon a horse. In that manner we journeyed many, many miles, till we came to the foot of the mountain, where were several savage-looking men, evidently waiting to receive me, for no sooner did we come up with them than they placed me upon another horse, and so we traveled over mountains, across rivers, and through forests, sometimes sleeping under a small tent, which they carried with them for my sole use, at others in the huts of villages; and thus, after many weeks, we arrived at a large palace, and then I soon began to forget my trouble, for I was introduced into the apartments of that sweet princess, with whom I soon became on the most intimate terms; but, notwithstanding our friendship, she would never (she said she dared not) tell me in what part of Java the palace was situated, to whom it belonged, or for what reason I had been stolen away from home. Well, in that palace I remained many months, being permitted every liberty and luxury within its walls, and those of its gardens, but never being allowed to pass without, or to be in the presence of one of the slaves, whom it might be possible to coax any information from, without the presence of the princess, my friend, or one or two of her devoted attendants. At length one day—not seemingly more than three months since—the Princess told me that her father, the Pangeran, whoever he might be, was about to remove, with the whole of his household, to another palace, some hundreds of miles away. This mattered but little to me, so long as the Princess was with me, for it would be but a change of residence, and so I cheerfully prepared for and set out on the journey. As I expected, when we arrived here, I found but little difference in our mode of life. One day, however, I did manage to elude the vigilance of the Princess and her ladies, and hold a conversation with one of the female slaves. I learned from her two pieces of information: one, that my host or jailer was the Pangeran of Marang; another, that an envoy, a Dutchman, was then in the city, and that, for his Excellency’s amusement, the Pangeran had ordered a tiger-fight. At this news, I, who had become domesticated in the palace, and had not for a long time either thought or desired to escape, began to pant for my liberty—liberty to go back even to that bad home in Batavia. Disguising my real intention, I confessed to the Princess that I had discovered who her father was, and also about the intended tiger-fight. I knew it must be a horrid, dreadful sight, but I thought if I could persuade the Princess to take me with her in her howdah, that we might by chance get near the Dutch envoy; and in such an event, I had fully resolved to beg of him to set me at liberty—to take me back with him to Batavia; but little did I imagine that I should be pleading for liberty to the very man who had taken it from me! Well, so earnestly did I beg of my Princess to let me accompany her, that she consented, and I went; and now I have told you my adventures. They are not very frightful, are they? nor very romantic, either—only a little girl you know kept out of the way while her uncle-in-law could spend all her money!”
“Indeed, dear Marie, I fear it is but too true that he has spent it, for did he not confess that he had ruined you.”
“Then, Martin, I shall have to work for my living, that is all. I will be a governess, or a companion, to one of the Dutch ladies in Batavia.”
“No, Marie,” replied my brother, impatiently, “Claud and I have money; you shall share it, as you have a right: it has been left to us by your father; and then we will all return to America, for you, like ourselves, have many relations there.”
“Martin,” said I, “you forget that we are even now, perhaps, regarded by the Dutch Government as rebels; if so, we have no fortunes; they have been, or will be, confiscated;” and, with a bitter laugh, my brother replied,—
“Let us wait till we hear from Batavia, and don’t prophesy evil, you old witch, for it is sure to come true.”
“Well, then, I now prophesy that, in spite of all dark clouds above us, we shall not be punished as rebels—that our fortunes are not, will not be confiscated.”
“The sahib Claud has prophesied correctly,” said Prabu, who, unobserved by any, had been standing in the doorway some few minutes.
“What mean you, Prabu?” we asked.