This business over, the Rajah issued forth from the Astana with the yellow satin umbrella held over him by the redoubtable Subu. Four Malay chiefs, dressed in flowing robes and holding their golden-knobbed sticks, accompanied him to the Court, where five days in the week the Rajah dispensed justice from 8 to 10.30. a.m. A retinue of young men and boys, who had paddled the chiefs to the Palace, followed the procession. I used to watch the boats crossing the river to the landing-place, when Subu once again held the umbrella over the Rajah’s head to the door of the Court. There, the umbrella was furled, when Subu, the umbrella, the Rajah and his ministers, disappeared from my view into the building. I then went to my rooms, where I usually found some Malay women waiting to see me. On one occasion, I was sitting with two or three Malay friends having coffee in the morning, when a young Chinese girl, in a cotton sarong and Malay jacket, dashed into the room, followed by one of the Guards. Her face was covered with scratches, her arms were one mass of bruises, and round her neck was a red mark as though she had been half strangled. She rushed up to me, caught hold of both my knees, and said: “I hope in you because you are the Rajah’s wife. The place I am in is a wicked one. I am a servant to a Chinese woman who is jealous of her husband. When her husband goes out, she locks me in a room and beats, scratches, and tortures me in every possible way, because she thinks her husband looks upon me with favour. I will stay with you always, I will not leave you, for if I go back to those people the woman will kill me.” The girl was very pretty, with a pale yellow skin and beautiful eyes, and I could quite understand that any woman might feel jealous of such an adjunct to her household. I sent the Guard away, and told the girl she might remain in a corner of my room until the Rajah came back from the Court. Meanwhile, her employers, finding she had run away from their house, had straightway gone to the Court, where the Rajah was then sitting, and an application was made for an order compelling the runaway to return. The Rajah, being told that the girl had gone to the Palace and not knowing the rights of the story, sent some police to bring her to him over the water. When I was told that they were below, the girl took hold of my gown, and said that if she was to go across to the courthouse, I was to go too to protect her. I had with me at the time, the wives of the three chief ministers of the Rajah’s Council, so we held a discussion as to what was to be done. They were all on my side, and urged me not to let the girl accompany the police sent by the Rajah. I must say I felt rather nervous. “Never mind,” they said: “if our husbands make any difficulty, when they come home they shall know it. You do the same with the Rajah, and let us save the girl if we possibly can. Moreover, when the rights