James Braithwaite, the Supercargo: The Story of his Adventures Ashore and AfloatKingston, William Henry Giles
History
James Braithwaite, the Supercargo: The Story of his Adventures Ashore and Afloat
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 19th century -- Fiction
It is often adorned with a variety of flowers. The Javanese
are nominally Mohammedans, but in the interior especially a number of
idolatrous practices are still kept up.
Pleasantly conversing we at length reached the residence of Mynheer Van
Deck. It was built in the best style of native architecture, that is to
say, on a raised platform of stone or brick; the outer walls were of
brick, with a verandah of bamboo, all round which the partitions, as was
most of the furniture, were of bamboo, which had a very cool appearance,
and was sufficient for a hot climate. My host was a bachelor, not from
choice, he assured me, but from necessity, on account of the scarcity of
European ladies in the island.
"Those who are born here are so ill-educated, and so indolent, that a
man is better without their society," he remarked.
In spite of this drawback he received me very hospitably and kindly, and
though I was vexed at having again been separated from my ship, I
confessed to myself that I had very little cause to complain of my lot.
I was leaning back on an easy bamboo chair and gazing out through a
vista of palm-trees on the deep blue sea, when the clatter of horses'
feet coming along the road caught our ears. As they drew near the clank
of sabres was heard at the same time. The voice of an officer crying
"Halt" was next heard, and soon afterwards we saw him approaching the
house. My host, with a look of considerable annoyance, rose to receive
him. He was a young and pleasant-looking man.
"Ah, Mynheer Van Deck, bon jour," he said. "You have in your house, I
am given to understand, a foreigner, supposed to be an English spy. I
am come to demand him from you."
"I am the person to whom you allude, monsieur," I said, rising from my
seat and going forward. "You are, however, wrongly informed. I am an
Englishman, but not a spy. I landed, not knowing that this part of the
island was in possession of the French, and had I not been detained I
should have returned to my ship."
"I am not here to dispute the point, monsieur," he said, bowing
politely. "I must perform my duty, and that is to convey you with me to
Cheribon, where my superior officers will investigate the matter. You
have supped, I conclude; we will therefore take advantage of the cool of
the evening, and make good as much of our journey as the waning day will
allow us to perform."
My Dutch friend shrugged his shoulders. There was not much time for
consideration. I saw that I had no resource but to obey, though I must
own that I did so with a very bad grace.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
PIRATES.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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