EVE'S DAUGHTERS AND THE SERPENT.
A couple of days after Mrs. Meidema was sitting with her two daughters
in one of the hinder galleries of her house. Our reader has already
made a slight acquaintance with the pretty pair of twins on the
occasion of the reception and ball at the Residence. They were now
sitting with their mother, very busy mending a heap of boys' clothing
which appeared to be in a deplorable state.
"It is too bad,--really it is shameful," said Gesina. "Now just do
look at this, mother,--why the sleeve is literally torn out of it,
and there is a huge rent right in the breast. I say, mother, do you
think that jacket is worth patching up?"
"To be sure it is, Sijntje," replied the mother, "now just you set
to work with a will."
"Those good-for-nothing boys!" cried Gesina, "they keep us stitching
for them all day long."
"Come, come," threw in her sister Matilda, "boys will be boys, and
ours are so full of spirits."
"That is no reason, I suppose," said Gesina, "why they should be
climbing trees all day, and get their clothes in such a frightful
state."
"How do you suppose a boy is to keep out of a tree?" asked Matilda. "If
I were a boy I would do just the same."
The mother smiled at her daughter's warm defence of her little
brothers. "Oh, yes," said she, "it would be a pretty sight to see
Matilda up a tree."
The two young girls had a laugh at the idea, and then Gesina said,
"Don't you think, mother dear, that you might get us a needlewoman
to help us with all this heap of clothes."
"My dear girl, what are you thinking about?" asked Mrs. Meidema.
"Well," continued Matilda, coming to her sister's help, "I must say
I think the idea a very good one."
"But, my dear girls, pray remember that a needlewoman would have to
be paid, and pray where is the money to come from?"
"Anna van Gulpendam," put in Matilda quickly, "I know always has
her needlewoman."
"No doubt she has," said Mrs Meidema; "but you must remember, Tilda,
that Anna is an only child, and that she is, moreover, the Resident's
daughter."
"Is there then very much difference, mother, between the income of
a Resident and that of an Assistant Resident."
"I should think so, indeed," replied Mrs. Meidema; "the Resident
draws fifteen hundred guilders a month at least, and your father has
at the most but five hundred."
"So much difference as that," said Matilda, seriously; "indeed I
never thought it was so much."
"And then, Tilda dear," continued her mother, "as I said before,
the Resident has but one daughter, and we have five children to
provide for."
"Are children very expensive?" asked Gesina.
"You can reckon it up for yourself, Sijntje--there is food to get and
clothing and school-fees and--oh, ever so many odds and ends besides."
"It is a pity!" sighed the girl, after a while.
"What is a pity?"
"It is a pity that boys are such an expensive luxury, for they are
jolly little fellows."
"Now did you ever hear such a girl?" laughed Mrs. Meidema, "first
she grumbles at the trouble those good-for-nothing boys give her,
and then she calls them jolly little fellows!"
"Well, mother dear, you must let me grumble a bit now and then,
I really can't help it when we have such a heap of boys' clothes to
mend," and with these words the young girl laid her fair head lovingly
on her mother's shoulder.
"Money is not everything," said Matilda, sententiously, as she kept on
stitching busily, while Mrs. Meidema was running her fingers through
her daughter's flowing curls.
The difference between her father's income and the pay of Resident
van Gulpendam led Matilda to make this philosophical remark.
"Of course not, Matilda," replied Gesina, "of course not; money is
not everything--look at us now, are we not happy?"
"Yes," said Matilda, "and to complete the comparison, could anyone be
happier even in the Residence itself? Oh, when I come to think over
what has happened, I cannot help feeling very sad. Poor, poor Anna!"
"Have you had any news from her?" asked Gesina, who by this time had
resumed her work.
"Yes, this morning I had a letter from Karang Anjer, such a wretchedly
sad letter. Knowing Anna's character as I do I can read despair
in every word, and I fear--oh, yes, I fear, the very worst--She is
capable, I do really think, of any desperate deed."
"But," cried Gesina, "what can be the matter with her?"
"I do not know the rights of it all," replied her sister. "On those
matters Anna is very reserved; but what I know is that her parents
will not consent to her marriage with van Nerekool."
"Oh, she will soon get tired of Karang Anjer, and then we shall have
her back again."
"I think not; indeed she writes to tell me that it is her intention
never to return. Her letter is so full of sorrow, so miserably
despondent, it reads to me like a last farewell--as it were a parting
for life. She writes to me as her best and truest friend, and beseeches
me not to cast a stone at her should her despair prompt her to a step
which will make the world scorn her memory. Mother dear, what am I
to do, what can I do to relieve her--I wish I could go to see her at
Karang Anjer!"
"My dear child," said Mrs. Meidema quietly, "the very best thing you
can do is to allude as little as possible, in your correspondence with
Anna, to her attachment to van Nerekool. She has, as you yourself say,
not taken you fully into her confidence; and from this you may conclude
that there exist secrets which you cannot, without indiscretion,
touch upon; and which it would only increase her pain to needlessly
pry into. Time is the great healer, and it must have its soothing
effect upon Anna in her distress. I know something of what has been
going on, and I am in hopes that things may yet turn out well."
"You know what has happened, mother?" cried Matilda, "do tell me all
about it. I am so dearly fond of Anna, that anything which concerns
her has, for me, the greatest interest."
"Matilda," replied Mrs. Meidema, "Anna, who I do not think herself
knows just how matters stand, has thought it right to keep silent
before you. She has, in my opinion, acted very wisely."
"But, mother!"
"Yes, I say, she has acted very wisely in this matter, for she might
perhaps have had to reveal to you a depth of wickedness which a young
girl may very well remain ignorant of. You must allow me to follow
her example. Just now you said, very wisely too, that money is not
everything in the world. You were quite right, it is not. There
now you see before you a family to which money is no object, which
possesses moreover all other requisites for happiness, such as health,
consideration, the highest position in our little society; and yet
you see there is no happiness. No, money is not everything--But yet--"
As she said it, the poor woman heaved a deep sigh. The fact that she
was sitting there with her daughters hard at work, showed plainly
enough that the earthly dross was not altogether so indifferent to
her as her words might seem to imply--and she hesitated to go on--her
girls looked up at her with an inquiring glance.
"But yet?" asked Gesina. "Pray finish what you had to say, mother."
"Well," continued Mrs. Meidema, "I had but very little to add; yet
a couple of hundred guilders a year more would greatly improve our
position. We have very heavy expenses to meet, we have a great deal
of money to find; and--"
The awning which separated the back-gallery from the grounds beyond,
and sheltered it from the glaring light outside, was here suddenly
flung aside, admitting a dazzling flood of sunlight which made the
three ladies look up in surprise.
"Babah Lim Yang Bing wishes to speak with the master," said one of
the servants.
"But your master is not in, he is at his office," replied Mrs. Meidema,
"you know that as well as I do."
"I told the babah so, njonja," said the man.
"Well?"
"He wishes to speak to the njonja."
Mrs. Meidema made a gesture of impatience. But Lim Yang Bing,
the wealthiest Chinaman in the residence of Santjoemeh--perhaps the
richest man in all Dutch India--was not the kind of man who could very
well be turned away. It was, moreover, no very unusual thing for him
to come and pay his respects to the ladies and, on such occasions,
he generally had some pretty little nick-nacks to show.
"Very well, show him in," said Mrs. Meidema.
The needle-work had in all haste to be put away and concealed, and
some light fancy work had to be snatched up; for it would never do
to let that Chinaman see a European family employed in such drudgery.
"Tabeh njonja, tabeh nonna nonna. Saja halap--"
But we will not attempt to reproduce the Chinaman's execrable
Malay. In fact it would hardly be possible to do so, as the men of
his nationality find the greatest difficulty to pronounce some of the
consonants, and their talk is often extremely difficult to understand.
"Good-morning, madam; good-morning, young ladies," said he most
courteously, "I hope I am not intruding. I thought I might have found
the Assistant Resident at home; but since I am not so fortunate, I
take the liberty of paying my respects to the ladies--in the first
place to inquire after their health, and also to tell them a great
piece of news."
"News?" asked Mrs. Meidema, who like most women did not lack
curiosity. "Pray be seated, babah."
And, turning to the native servant who was sitting cross-legged on
the steps of the gallery, she said:
"Todrono, bring a chair."
As the Chinaman took his seat, the two girls looked at him with
wonder-waiting eyes.
"And now, babah, for your important news!" said Mrs. Meidema, somewhat
eager to hear it.
"First," said Lim Yang Bing with another bow, "allow me to inquire
after the state of the ladies' health."
"Oh, thank you," replied Mrs. Meidema, "we are all perfectly well."
"Toean Allah be praised," cried the Chinaman in high-flown tones,
but with the sweetest of smiles on his lips.
"Now for your news, babah!" cried Gesina impatiently.
"Yes, nonna, I don't wonder at your curiosity, you are quite right,
the young ladies especially will enjoy it."
"But, babah, do pray speak out, tell me what it is all about," cried
Matilda as eagerly as her sister.
"Well," said the Chinaman, "it is about a wedding."
"A wedding!" exclaimed one.
"A Chinese wedding?" asked the other.
"Yes, ladies, yes, a Chinese wedding, as you say," replied Lim Yang
Bing, laying as much stress as he could upon his words.
"Delightful!" cried both the young girls.
"And who may the happy couple be?" asked Mrs. Meidema somewhat more
soberly.
"I may not tell you that, nja."
"Oh!" said Gesina with much disappointment in her voice, "then it is
not decided yet."
"Yes," replied Lim Yang Bing, "it is quite certain; it is so far
decided indeed that I have samples of the silk with me now."
"Samples of the silk!" cried both the young girls in a breath.
"Yes, the samples of silk. You surely must have heard, young ladies,
that on such occasions the betrothed couple always make some little
presents to the invited guests. And since you ladies will, I hope,
honour me by witnessing the ceremony, I have ventured to bring the
samples along with me. Very fine silk indeed; I ordered it on purpose
from Nan Hioeng. But you must judge for yourselves, ladies."
Therewith he produced a small parcel which he carefully unfastened
and the contents of which he displayed to the women's admiring gaze.
"Oh!" cried Gesina, "just look at that lovely green shot with red! what
a charming dress that would make!"
"And," exclaimed Matilda, "what a splendid blue! Dark blue with
flowers. If I had to choose, I would--"
"And will not Mrs. Meidema make her choice?" asked Lim Yang Bing.
Mrs. Meidema could not help casting an eye upon the seductive parcel
but--she hesitated.
"Come, come, pray select a sample for yourself, madam," said the
Chinaman with a supplicating look.
"But--babah--" she began, "I have never heard of gifts offered at
Chinese weddings. I know they are customary at the New Year."
"Yes, yes njonja, you are quite right, on that occasion we offer
gifts all round to all our acquaintances; but at a wedding we only
do so to our old friends, and--I take the liberty of reckoning the
Assistant Resident among my very good friends."
"Yes, but babah, you know Mr. Meidema, do you not?"
"Surely the njonja would not refuse my poor little present,"
interrupted the Chinaman.
"Oh, mother, dear!" whispered Gesina beseechingly.
"No, babah, I will not downright refuse; but before coming to any
decision or making any choice, I must have a talk to my husband."
"Of course, of course," hastily said Lim Yang Bing, "that is nothing
more than right and proper. It makes matters, in fact, easier for me,
as perhaps, madam, you would not mind to intercede for me with the
Assistant Resident."
"Intercede for you, babah!" cried Mrs. Meidema now thoroughly
surprised. "You know that my intercession has but very little influence
with my husband."
The Chinaman smiled--it was a cunning leer, as he said:
"No, no, madam, I did not mean you to intercede for me--I cannot
have expressed myself properly--what I meant was--to intercede for
the bridegroom."
"For the bridegroom?" asked Mrs. Meidema. "Oh, yes; but who is the
happy man, babah?"
"Madam, that is a secret--However, I may just as well tell you at
once; as soon as you know who he is I feel sure I can reckon upon
your sympathy. Well, the happy man, then, is my son Lim Ho."
"Indeed!" said Mrs. Meidema very coolly, "and who is the young lady?"
"Ngow Ming Nio."
"The daughter of Ngow Ming Than--is she not? A very pretty girl and
a very rich girl too--I am sure I congratulate you, babah."
"And now, may I reckon upon you, madam, to intercede for Lim Ho?" asked
the Chinaman.
"I do not see," said Mrs. Meidema, "in what Lim Ho can need my
intercession."
"Ah, well," sighed Lim Yang Bing, "I fear that the poor boy is not
in very good odour with the Assistant Resident. If only you would
speak a good word for him, madam."
"But why? His marriage can have nothing to do with Mr. Meidema."
"No, njonja; but--" said the Chinaman dropping his voice, "You see
there is something about an opium business in which the poor boy has
got mixed up."
"I will have nothing whatever to do with that sort of thing!" exclaimed
Mrs. Meidema now fairly frightened. "There, babah, please put those
samples up again."
The Chinaman was taken aback, he reluctantly rolled up the parcel
and slowly and deliberately put it into his pocket.
"But, njonja," he mumbled, "the poor fellow is as innocent as the
babe unborn."
"I won't hear anything about it, babah, not another word, please,
on the subject."
"If only the toean Assistant Resident would hear what he has to say,"
insisted Lim Yang Bing.
"Come, mother," whispered Gesina, who, to her infinite vexation saw
the splendid silk dress fading away on the horizon, "If father would
but hear what Lim Ho has to say for himself."
Mrs. Meidema again hesitated.
"Well," said she, "if my intercession is to go no further than that--I
can see no objection to ask my husband to do that."
"Mother, take care!" said Matilda in a very low but very warning voice.
"I am infinitely obliged to the njonja," said the Chinaman as he took
Mrs. Meidema's hand and gratefully pressed it. "I shall leave these
samples here with you--"
"Oh, no! no! I will have nothing to do with them."
"But, mother," whispered Gesina.
"Mother, take care!" said Matilda as softly.
Lim Yang Bing did not at all like these whisperings of the two young
ladies, and so he hastened to say: "My dear madam, I can assure you
that those poor samples have nothing in the world to do with your
pleading for my son. I have the honour of inviting you and your two
charming daughters--and of course, Mr. Meidema--to be present at my
son's marriage. There is not much harm in that I hope. I reckon you
among my good friends and, as an acknowledgment of the honour which
your presence will confer upon them, the young couple beg you to
accept a slight present. In that no one will see any harm I hope;
in fact it is simply our national custom. So far, I think we are
agreed. This small parcel of samples I will leave here in order that
the ladies may have time to make their choice and to talk over the
whole matter with the Assistant Resident when he comes in."
Put thus plausibly, the offer could hardly be refused. But even if
Mrs. Meidema had wished to make an objection she had no time to do so;
for the wily Chinaman had very hurriedly put down the parcel on the
table, had muttered his tabehs with a few hasty words to the effect
that he intended to look in again and ascertain what choice the ladies
had made, and then had disappeared.
When once the babah was fairly out of the place, the two young girls
looked at each other and at their mother.
Gesina with a smile on her pretty lips, Matilda with a very serious
expression of countenance.
"A Chinese wedding!" exclaimed the former. "No doubt there will be
a reception and then, what a splendid dance we shall have. When the
Chinese do give a party they know how to do it well!"
"Do keep quiet, Sijntje," said Mrs. Meidema. She spoke reprovingly,
although, as a loving mother, she was pleased to see her girl's radiant
looks. They had so few opportunities to go out, especially to such
parties as this promised to be. Once a year they got an invitation
to the Residence, and that was all.
"And how fine I shall look," continued the girl in her glee, "in my new
silk dress." She took the parcel from the table, "Oh, yes," said she,
"I have quite made up my mind, I choose the green silk. And you Tilda?"
"I don't know," replied the other, "but somehow, I feel that all this
bodes misfortune."
"Oh, I say, how very silly! Just look at these samples!" cried Gesina
as she opened the bundle. "Oh, what a splendid bit of brown silk--look
mother, dear, that is something for you! And that deep blue is Tilda's
choice; it is fine, yes it is very fine; but the green is to my mind
the best of all. Just look--But--But--what is that!"
Gesina was spreading the piece of silk on her knee in order to
bring out the fine effect of the colours. As she did so--something
slid out of the packet and fell at her feet. For a moment the three
ladies sat there as if petrified, for at a glance they had recognized
bank-notes--papers of five hundred guilders. At length Gesina stooped
and picked them up. She counted them, one, two, three--up to ten.
"Five thousand guilders!" she stammered in utter confusion. "How
could they have got into the parcel? It must be some mistake of the
babah's--surely he must have made some mistake."
"I feared as much!" thought Matilda almost aloud.
"Five thousand guilders!" The thought flashed through Mrs. Meidema's
brain as she took the parcel and the papers from her daughter's hand,
"Five thousand guilders!"
Her first impulse was to send at once after the babah and to call
him back--to give him his money, and to have him and his samples and
his notes kicked out of the house. Five thousand guilders! And the
Chinaman was already so far away. Five thousand guilders! Was it wise
to let the servants know all this--no certainly not--it would not be
wise. Five thousand guilders! It was about as much as her husband's
salary for ten months amounted to. She took up the notes, looked at
them, smoothed them down one by one, then rolled them together. Five
thousand guilders! That would pay all those troublesome tradesmen's
bills, and even then, when every farthing was paid, there would be a
nice little sum left. Then Meidema might get leave of absence for a
while to go into the hill-country. He wanted a change, lately he had
been looking very poorly--a couple of weeks' holidays in the hills
would quite set him up. Five thousand guilders! The boys might have
new jackets. All these thoughts however were cut short by the rumbling
of carriage wheels on the drive.
"That is father!" cried Gesina, "quick! put away those samples
and notes!"
She tried to seize them, she had already hastily rolled up the whole
parcel together and was about to hide it under the coarse needlework
with which they had been busy as the Chinaman came in. But her mother
took it from her and quietly laid it upon the table before her. The
voice of her husband was heard in the front gallery giving some orders
to his servant, and that voice had startled the good woman out of the
train of evil thoughts which had unconsciously risen up within her, and
which had threatened to lead her astray from the path of duty. No, no,
from the man by whose side she had courageously walked for the best
part of her life, she could have no secret; from him, whom she had
followed for so many years in weal and in woe, she would have nothing
hidden. She determined to lay everything open before her husband,
he might then act as he thought best. True, they were very poor;
but she felt that she must abide by his decision.
All these thoughts, in a moment of time, flashed through the mind
of this brave and loyal wife, and when Meidema walked into the
back-gallery her mind was fully made up.
The girls jumped up to give their father the usual kiss, the mother
also rose to welcome him. But Meidema saw, at a single glance, that
there was something wrong. He put his hands on his wife's shoulders
and steadily looking her in the face he said cheerily: "I say, mammy
dear--is there any news?"
"Yes, Meidema, there is," replied his wife gravely, "sit down, I have
something to tell you!"
"I say, old girl, you look very serious, are the girls in the way?"
"No, no, let them stay, I have no secrets that they may not hear--in
fact I prefer them to be here."
"My love, how solemn you are! Is there anything wrong? Anything to
do with them eh? Have they had an offer? No? Of course not, you would
not have looked so black if they had."
"Now pray," said his wife, "pray do not talk such nonsense."
"Oh, I see, it must be those boys! they have been naughty--trousers
torn, jackets in holes! Yes--those youngsters are an awful
nuisance--Never mind all that will come right by-and-by."
"All that will come right!"--At those words he stopped short, poor
man! his interview with the Resident then came to his memory and he
began restlessly to pace up and down the gallery. He took out his
cigar-case and looked at Matilda.
She jumped up, "May I light it for you, father?" she said.
She put the cheroot to her lips, lighted a match, and drew a few
whiffs. As the smoke went curling up her nostrils and into her eyes,
she made a funny little grimace--then she coughed slightly and closed
her eyes, and, when the cigar was well lighted, she gave it to her
father saying:
"Ah bah, horrid! How can you gentlemen like that nasty smoke?"
"Why you little minx!" said her father laughing, "you have lit it at
the wrong end!"
"It is more economical, father."
"Perhaps so; but that is why it tastes nasty."
"Well, father," said Matilda suddenly growing serious, "now please
sit down and attend to mother."
"Yes, Meidema, please sit down," said his wife; "I have to talk to
you on a most serious matter."
"All right, wifey--here I am seated--now I am all ears."
"Babah Lim Yang Bing has been here this morning!"
"Indeed!--I met him a few minutes ago, he greeted me most
politely--more politely in fact than usually."
"Do you know, Meidema, what he came here for?"
"What he came here for? Not I," replied the husband somewhat astonished
at his wife's words. The name of the opium-farmer had roused some
suspicion within him though he was unable to guess what his errand
might have been. "I suppose," said he, after a moment's pause,
"I suppose he merely dropped in to have a chat."
"Do you know," said Mrs. Meidema, "that his son Lim Ho is about to
be married?"
"Yes, I have heard some such rumour. To the daughter of that rich
old Chinaman--is it not?"
"Yes, father," interrupted Gesina, "to pretty little Ngow Ming Nio."
"Lim Yang Bing," continued Mrs. Meidema, "was here this morning to
invite you and me and the girls to the wedding."
"All right," replied Meidema, "the girls will have rare fun; I daresay
you know," he continued, as he patted the cheek of one of the twins,
"you know a Chinese marriage is a most interesting ceremony. Is that
then the reason why you all look so solemn? Oh, aye--I see--it is
about the dresses. The other day when the Resident gave his ball we
had some trouble about that. It is a great expense no doubt; but--"
"No, Meidema, that is not troubling me, for the Chinaman offers us
a present."
"A present!" shouted the Assistant Resident.
"Yes, he tells me that, on such occasions, they always give presents."
"Quite right--some sweetmeats, a few cakes, perhaps. But what of that?"
"No, no," said his wife, "not sweetmeats at all; but silk for dresses."
"Silk!" cried Meidema, "the fellow must have gone mad! I never have
heard of any such presents; and yet I have been a good while in India."
"He has even left some samples here with us," continued Mrs. Meidema,
"very fine silk, I assure you, most splendid quality. But there was
one slight condition attached to his gift."
"Indeed! a condition! what might that be?"
"That I should intercede with you for Lim Ho."
"For Lim Ho--oh, oh! and what did you say to that?"
"I told him I would have nothing to do with it."
"Where are these samples?" cried Meidema. "Hand them to me, I will
fling them into the fire."
"Now Meidema, do be quiet for a bit!"
"Intercede for Lim Ho! So! they thought to bribe you with a yard or
two of silk!"
"No, no Meidema, not only with a yard or two of silk--just open
that parcel."
The inspector tore it open, and, in his excitement he cried, "Where
is it?"
The banknotes fell to the ground. Pale and utterly unnerved he picked
them up, he opened them, looked at his wife and daughters with a stern
look; but he spoke not a word. At length, breaking out into a curse,
he crumpled up the whole parcel of samples and notes together into
one formless mass as he hoarsely cried: "The devil take that d--d
Chinaman! the fellow shall pay for this!" And calling to his servant
he cried: "Todrono, have the horses put in!"
Ten seconds later he had dashed out of the room.