But to return to the conjurors. When they give notice that it is their intention to receive visitors, as the spirits will most probably enter into them, their houses are crowded by young men and such women as can get there, but they often confine their performances to some sleight of hand. I watched one do a trick, and she did it cleverly. She began by telling me she knew I disbelieved in her power, but she would convince me, by cooking one of my own eggs from simply breathing on it. I sent for one, and taking it in her hands, she appeared suddenly to be possessed by the spirit: she uttered unearthly sounds, pretended to desire to attack some one who laughed at her, so as to require two women to hold her back, until the indignant comments of the bystanders caused the scoffer to hide her face; she then commenced putting her features through such contortions as effectually to prevent my watching her countenance, but I kept my eyes upon her hands; presently she became quiet, and began breaking the egg; it was certainly cooked; she carefully collected the shell, and then eat its contents. She then breathed on the fragments of shell, and almost immediately opened her hand with my uncooked egg untouched. Though it is not my object to give an account of the Malays, I will enter slightly into the condition of the women. In Brunei, the wives and daughters of the sultan and of the nobles are much more concealed than holds with the Malays in other parts of Borneo, and one can only describe a harim from hearsay. It is nothing like the gorgeous palaces of Western Asia; the sultan’s house consists of a long building like a rough barn, raised on posts in the water, and is perhaps seventy feet long by thirty in breadth. It is one story high, though in the roof are some rough attics: in this residence he keeps his wives, his concubines, and his female slaves; so jealous is he that no one shall see them, that when the house requires repairs, he will work with his own hands rather than permit the labourers to enter the inner rooms: the only man in whom he has confidence is a very old decrepit pañgeran, who assists him in the work. He has seventy women confined in this small space: his principal wife has a large room, elegantly hung with silk hangings, and well matted; she is permitted luxuries denied to all but three or four favourite concubines. The other unfortunates are allowed a little rice, salt, firewood, and water, and once a year a cheap suit of clothes; for everything extra they must depend on their families or their lovers. The palace is, as I have said, like a rough barn, but the flooring is simply slips of a palm stem, tied together with rattans, and can be opened with facility; through the interstices every kind of refuse is thrown, to be carried away by the current.