"Dan ... ger," the table tapped out. "Where?" "Threat ... ens," the table continued, "La-bu-wangi." "Danger threatens Labuwangi?" "Yes!" said the table, with one tap, angrily. "What danger?" "Rebellion." "Rebellion? Who's going to rebel?" "In ... two months ... Sunario." They became thoughtful. But the table, suddenly, unexpectedly, fell over again into Ida's lap. "Oh my! Oh dear!" cried the little woman. The table refused to go on. "Tired," it tapped out. They continued to hold their hands on it. "Leave off," said the table. The doctor, sniggering, laid his short, broad hand on it, as though to compel it. "Go to blazes!" cried the table, grating and turning. "Bounder!" And worse words followed, aimed at the doctor, as though by a street-boy: obscene words, senseless and incoherent. "Who's suggesting those words?" asked Eva, indignantly. Obviously no one was suggesting them, neither the three ladies nor Van Helderen, who was always very punctilious and who was manifestly indignant at the mocking spirit's coarseness. "It really is a spirit," said Ida, looking very pale. "I'm going to leave off," said Eva, nervously, lifting up her fingers. "I don't understand this nonsense. It's quite amusing, but the table's not accustomed to polite society." "We've got a new resource for Labuwangi!" said Eldersma. "No more picnics, no dances ... but table-turning!" "We must practise!" said Mrs. Doorn de Bruijn. Eva shrugged her shoulders. "It's inexplicable," she said. "I'm bound to believe that none of us was cheating. It's not the sort of thing Van Helderen would do, to suggest such words as those." "Madam!" said Van Helderen, defending himself. "We must do it again," said Ida. "Look, there's a hadji leaving the grounds." She pointed to the garden. "A hadji?" asked Eva. She looked towards the garden, expecting to see a Mecca pilgrim. There was nothing. "Oh no, it's not!" said Ida. "I thought it was a hadji. It's nothing, only the moonlight." It was late. They said good-night, laughing gaily, wondering, but finding no explanation. "I do hope this hasn't made you ladies nervous?" said the doctor. No, considering all things, they were not nervous. They were more amused, even though they did not understand. It was two o'clock when they went home. The moonlight was streaming down on the town, which lay deathly still, slumbering in the velvet shadows of the gardens. CHAPTER TEN Next day, when Eldersma had gone to the office and Eva was moving about the house, in sarong and kabaai, on her domestic duties, she saw Frans van Helderen coming through the garden. "May I?" he called out. "Certainly," she called back. "Come in. But I'm on my way to the godown." And she held up her bunch of keys. "I'm due at the resident's in half an hour, but I'm too early ... so I just looked in." She smiled. "But I'm busy, you know!" she said. "Come along to the godown with me."