“I will read this,” he replied, showing us a letter in the Javanese character.
He did—it was from the friendly Chief or Prince of Mojopahit, containing a warning to Prabu to beware of venturing near any district under the influence of the Dutch Governor-General, as his Excellency had issued a free pardon to all of the followers of Prabu, calling himself the descendant of Surapati. But for Prabu himself another reward, in addition to that already issued, had been offered for his capture or death.
“True,” said Martin, thoughtfully, “if we have ever been counted among the rebels, this includes our pardon; but,” he added, “now more than ever, my brave friend, am I inclined to remain by thy side.”
“Sahib Martin,” replied Prabu, kindly, but firmly, “you must not, shall not remain with one who may be hunted through the length and breadth of Java. You have youth, health, and hope. It may be written that your life shall be long, happy, and prosperous. With Prabu the future is blank. His degenerate countrymen have again made their peace with their enslavers. He has outlived Javan honor and patriotism. But,” he added, fiercely, “the day may and will come when the hated Hollanders shall be driven into the sea. It might have been now—the time was ripe—but for that dog!” Then, his anger lashed to fury, he cried, “Would that he were alive again to fall by my creese!”
“Better,” said I, “that he is no more;” for I knew that he alluded to Ebberfeld.
“The sahib is right—it is,” he replied, in subdued tones; “for had the dog lived another month, he would have betrayed his Highness the Pangeran into the hands of the vile Dutch.”
“But how?” said I; “was he not here for the purpose of cementing firmly the new peace and friendship between the Dutch Government and the Pangeran?”
“That was the supposed purport of his coming; but listen, and you will learn the real object. It was to watch till the Pangeran committed some overt act that might be construed into a just cause for robbing him of his dominions. I tell you, Sahib, this dog Ebberfeld did but join the patriots to worm themselves into our secrets, to fan the rising flame and then to betray them. And if, in the first instance, he was led to join us by his hatred to the Dutch, a ready pardon, and the promise of half the Pangeran’s wealth, was to be his reward for his treachery.”
“But how know you all this?” I asked.
“Partly,” he replied, “from this letter from the Prince of Mojopahit, chiefly from papers found last night in his house. Allah forgive him! his sins were many.”