The retainers of the prisoner, who were without, hearing what was going on within, attacked those of the friendly chief and the European sentinels with great courage, and would have mastered them, had not the officer of the guard rushed out with his drawn sword, and overpowered those who were engaged with them. When he entered the apartment where the chiefs were, he found the captive chief expiring, leaning on the arm and supported by the knee of his opponent, who, with his drawn dagger over him, waited to give, if necessary, an additional stab.
In the year 1812, the very day on which the fortified palace of the Sultan of Java was stormed, a certain petty chief, a favorite of the dethroned Sultan, was one of the first to come over to the conquerors, and was active, in the course of the day, in carrying into effect the successful measures pursued for the pacification of the country. At night he was, with many other Javanese, hospitably received into the spacious house of the chief of the Chinese, and appeared to be perfectly satisfied with the new order of things. The house was protected by a strong guard of Sepoys. At night, without any warning, but starting from his sleep, he commenced havoc, and before he had lost his own life, killed and wounded a great number of persons, chiefly his countrymen, who were sleeping in the same apartment.
Now, to Mynheer, as to all arrogant, overbearing men, honor and position were as the breath of life to his nostrils. Thus, the loss of his appointment made him morose and taciturn, and for hours together he would sit communing with himself, like one meditating some deep-laid scheme.
Then, strange to relate, Prabu seemed to have been taken into his confidence; for they would occasionally sit together in close conference in the library. Again, the twain would disappear for a week or two at a time—Prabu, as he would tell us, to go “nest-hunting” on his own account for the Chinese merchants of the Campong, and Ebberfeld to accompany him, for the love of the excitement and the benefit of his health.
“Yes,” said my brother, after having heard this, “it is all very well for Prabu to tell us that story; but it is fudge. It is my opinion they are hatching some conspiracy against the Government.”
“Well,” I replied, “that is a very romantic explanation of the mystery, at all events;” but then I did not, of course, believe anything so improbable, for, although there could be little doubt that our guardian was bad enough for anything, I did not give him credit for brains or pluck enough to take so high a flight in his wickedness; neither did Martin any longer entertain that belief when, one day, that grandee, the Javanese pangeran, or prince, came to our house to remain on a few weeks’ visit, and for a very good reason. His mahogany-colored highness was on terms of amity with the Dutch Government; for, although the latter had deprived him of sovereign power, as an equivalent they paid him a large annual stipend, and permitted him to retain his estates as proprietor.
“There can be little doubt,” I said, “that the Prince would like to exterminate the conquerors of his race, and, like his ancestors, establish barbaric rule over the island; but, then, it is not possible, and he is not mad enough to attempt impossibilities. It would be to resign the substance for the shadow.”
“True, Claud; but then, if there be truth in history, vanity, revenge, and ambition have caused many a man to give up his one bird in hand for a chance of catching the two in the bush.”
“But look you, brother Martin; it is no business of ours, and I vote we don’t bother ourselves about it.”
“Agreed,” replied Martin.