And, despite their anxiety, the two sought each other all the oftener, feeling themselves now bound by indissoluble bonds. In the afternoon he would steal to her room; and, despite their anxiety, they lost themselves in wild embraces and then remained close together.

“It must be nonsense, LÉonie,” he whispered.

“Yes, but then what is it?” she murmured in return. “After all, I heard the moaning and heard the stone whizz through the air.”

“And then?”

“What?”

“If it is something ... suppose it is something that we can’t explain?”

“But I don’t believe in it!”

“Nor I.... Only....”

“What?”

“If it’s something ... if it’s something that we can’t explain, then....”

“Then what?”

“Then ... it’s not because of us!” he whispered, almost inaudibly. “Why, Oorip said so herself! It’s because of papa!”

“Oh, but it’s too silly!”

“I don’t believe in that nonsense either.”

“The moaning ... of those animals.”

“And that stone ... must have been thrown by some wretched fellow ... one of the servants, a beggar who is putting himself forward ... or who has been bribed....”

“Bribed? By whom?”

“By ... by the regent....”

“Why, Theo!”

“Oorip said the moaning came from the palace....”

“What do you mean?”

“And that they wanted to torment papa from there....”

“To torment him?”

“Because the Regent of Ngadjiwa has been dismissed.”

“Does Oorip say that?”

“No, I do. Oorip said that the regent had occult powers. That’s nonsense, of course. The fellow’s a scoundrel. He has bribed people ... to worry papa.”

“But papa notices none of it....”

“No.... We mustn’t tell him either.... That’s the best thing to do.... We must ignore it.”

“And the white hadji, Theo, whom Doddie saw twice.... And, when they do table-turning at Van Helderen’s, Ida sees him too....”

“Oh, another tool of the regent’s, of course!”

“Yes, I expect that’s true.... But it’s wretched all the same, Theo.... Theo darling, I’m so frightened!”

“Of that nonsense? Come, come!”

“If it’s anything, Theo ... it has nothing to do with us, you say?”

He laughed:

“What next? What could it have to do with us? I tell you, it’s a practical joke of the regent’s.”

“We oughtn’t to be together any more.”

“No, no, I love you, I’m mad with love for you!”

He kissed her fiercely. They were both afraid. But he rallied LÉonie:

“Come, LÉonie, don’t be so superstitious!”

“When I was a child, my babu told me....”

She whispered a story in his ear. He turned pale:

“LÉonie, what rot!”

“Strange things happen here, in India.... If they bury something belonging to you, a pocket-handkerchief or a lock of hair, they are able—simply by witchcraft—to make you fall ill and pine away and die ... and not a doctor can tell what the illness is....”

“That’s rubbish!”

“It’s really true!”

“I didn’t know you were so superstitious!”

“I used never to think of it. I’ve begun to think of it just lately.... Theo, can there be anything!”

“There’s nothing ... but kissing.”

“No, Theo, don’t, be quiet, I’m frightened!... It’s quite late. It gets dark so quickly. Papa has finished his sleep, Theo. Go away now, Theo ... through the boudoir. I want to take my bath quickly. I’m frightened nowadays when it gets dark. There’s no twilight, with the rains. The evenings come all of a sudden.... The other day, I had not told them to bring a light into the bathroom ... and already it was so dark ... at only half-past five ... and two bats were flying all over the place: I was so afraid that they would catch in my hair.... Hush! Is that papa?”

“No, it’s Doddie: she’s playing with her cockatoo.”

“Go now, Theo.”

He went through the boudoir, and wandered into the garden. She got up, flung a kimono over the sarong which she had knotted loosely under her arms and called to Oorip:

“Bring the bath-things.”

“Yes, mem-sahib.”

“Where are you, Oorip?”

“Here, mem-sahib.”

“Where were you?”

“Here, outside the garden-door, mem-sahib.... I was waiting,” said the girl, meaningly, implying that she was waiting until Theo had gone.

“Is the excellency sahib up?”

“Yes ... had his bath, mem-sahib.”

“Then fetch the things for my bath.... Light the little lamp in the bathroom.... Yesterday evening the glass was broken and the lamp not filled....”

“The mem-sahib never used to have the lamp lit in the bathroom.”

“Oorip ... has anything happened ... this afternoon?”

“No, everything has been quiet.... But oh, when the night comes!... All the servants are frightened, mem-sahib.... Cook says she won’t stay....”

“Oh, what a fuss!... Oorip, promise her five guilders ... as a present ... if she stays....”

“The butler is frightened too, mem-sahib.”

“Oh, what a fuss!... I’ve never known such a fuss, Oorip....”

“No, mem-sahib.”

“I have always been able to arrange matters so well.... But these are things...!”

“What can one do, mem-sahib?... Things are stronger than men....”

“Mightn’t it really be wild cats ... and a man throwing stones?”

“Come, come, mem-sahib!”

“Well, bring my bath-things.... Don’t forget to light the little lamp....”

The maid left the room. The dusk began to fall softly through the air, soft as velvet after the rain. The great residency stood still as death amid the darkness of its giant banyans. And the lamps were not yet lit. In the front-verandah, Van Oudijck, by himself, lay in his pyjamas on a wicker chair, drinking tea. In the garden, the dense shadows were gathering like strips of immaterial velvet falling heavily from the trees.

“Lamp-boy!”

“Yes, mem-sahib.”

“Come, light the lamps! Why do you begin so late? Light the lamp in my bedroom first....”

She went to the bathroom. She went past the long row of store-rooms and servants’ rooms which shut off the back-garden. She looked up at the banyan-tree in whose top branches she had heard the little souls moaning. The branches did not move, there was not a breath of wind, the air was sultry and oppressive with a threatening storm, with rain too heavy to fall. In the bathroom, Oorip was lighting the little lamp.

“Have you brought everything, Oorip?”

“Yes, mem-sahib.”

“Haven’t you forgotten the big bottle with the white toilet-water?”

“Isn’t this it, mem-sahib?”

“Yes, that’s right.... But do give me a fine towel for my face in future. I’m always telling you to give me a fine towel. I hate these coarse ones....”

“I’ll run and fetch one.”

“No, no! Stay here, stay and sit by the door.”

“Yes, mem-sahib.”

“And you must have the keys seen to by a locksmith.... We can’t lock the bathroom-door.... It’s too silly, when there are visitors.”

“I’ll remember to-morrow.”

“Mind you don’t forget.”

She shut the door. The maid squatted down outside the closed door, patient and resigned under the big and little things of life, knowing nothing but loyalty to her mistress, who loaded her with pretty sarongs and paid her wages in advance as often as she wanted them.

In the bathroom the little nickel lamp gleamed faintly over the pale-green marble of the wet floor; over the water brimming in the square sunk bath.

“I’ll have my evening bath a little earlier in future,” thought LÉonie.

She removed her kimono and sarong; and, standing naked, she glanced in the mirror at her soft, milk-white contours, the rounded outlines of an amorous woman. Her fair hair shone like gold; and a pearly lustre spread from her shoulders over her bosom and vanished in the shadow of her small, round breasts. She lifted her hair, admiring herself, examining herself for a chance wrinkle, feeling whether her flesh was hard and firm. One of her hips arched outwards, as she rested her weight on one leg; and a long white high-light curved caressingly past her thigh and knee, disappearing at the instep. But she gave a start as she stood thus absorbed in admiration: she had meant to hurry. She quickly tied her hair into a knot, covered herself with a lather of soap and, taking the scoop, poured the water over her body. It flowed heavily down her in long smooth streams; and her gleaming shoulders, breasts and hips shone like marble in the light of the little lamp.... Yes, she would bathe earlier in future. It was already dark outside.

She dried herself hurriedly, with a rough towel. She just rubbed herself, briskly, with the white ointment which Oorip always prepared, her magic elixir of youth, suppleness and firm whiteness.... At that moment, she saw on her thigh a small red spot. She paid no attention to it, thinking that there must have been something in the water, a tiny leaf, a dead insect. She rubbed it off. But, while rubbing herself, she saw two or three larger spots, deep scarlet, on her chest. She turned suddenly cold, not knowing what it was, not understanding. She rubbed herself down again; and she took the towel, on which the spots had left something slimy, like clotted blood. A shiver ran over her from head to foot. And suddenly she saw. The spots came out of the corners of the bathroom—how and where she did not see—first small, then large, as though spat out by a dribbling, betel-chewing mouth. Cold as ice, she gave a scream. The spots, now closer together, became full, like blobs of purple saliva spat against her. Her body was soiled and filthy with a grimy, dribbling redness. One spot struck her in the eye....”

The slimy blobs of spittle marked the greenish white of the floor and floated in the water that had not yet run off. They also fouled the water in the bath and dissolved in filth. She was all red, stained and unclean, as though defiled by a foul scarlet shame which invisible betel-chewing mouths hawked and spat upon her from the corners of the room, aiming at her hair, her eyes, her breasts, her flanks. She uttered yell upon yell, driven crazy by the strangeness of what was happening. She rushed to the door, tried to open it, but there was something amiss with the handle. For the key was not turned in the lock, the bolt was not shot. She felt her back spat upon again and again; and the red dripped off her. She screamed for Oorip and heard the girl outside the door, pulling and pushing.

At last the door yielded. And, desperate, mad, distraught, insane, naked, befouled, she threw herself into her maid’s arms. The servants came running up. She saw Van Oudijck, Theo and Doddie hastening from the back-verandah. In her utter madness, with her eyes staring widely, she felt ashamed not of her nudity but of her defilement. The maid had snatched the kimono, also befouled, from the handle of the door and threw it round her mistress.

“Keep away!” LÉonie yelled, desperately. “Don’t come any nearer!” she screamed, madly. “Oorip, Oorip, take me to the swimming-bath! A lamp, a lamp ... in the swimming-bath!”

“What is it, LÉonie?”

She refused to say:

“I’ve ... trodden ... on a ... toad!” she screamed. “I’m afraid ... of itch!... Don’t come any nearer! I’ve got nothing on!... on upper line?] Keep away! Keep away!... A lamp, a lamp ... a lamp, I tell you ... in the swimming-bath!... No, Otto! Keep away! Keep away! I’m undressed! Keep away!... Bring a la-amp!”

The servants scurried past one another. One of them brought a lamp to the swimming-bath.

“Oorip! Oorip!”

She clutched her maid:

“They’ve spat at me ... with betel-juice!... They’ve spat ... at me ... with betel-juice!... They’ve spat ... at me ... with betel-juice!”

“Hush, mem-sahib!... Come along ... to the swimming-bath!”

“Wash me, Oorip!... Oorip, my hair, my eyes!... O God, I can taste it in my mouth!...”

She sobbed despairingly; the maid dragged her along.

“Oorip! First look ... look and see ... if they’re spitting ... in the swimming-bath too!”

The maid went in, shivering:

“There’s nothing there, mem-sahib.”

“Quick then, Oorip, bathe me, wash me.”

She flung off the kimono; her beautiful body became visible in the light of the lamp, as though soiled with dirty blood.

“Oorip, wash me.... No, don’t go for soap: water will do!... Don’t leave me alone! Oorip, wash me here, can’t you?... Burn the kimono! Oorip!”

She ducked in the swimming-bath and swam round desperately; the maid, half-undressed, went in after her and washed her.

“Quick, Oorip! Quick: only the worst places!... I’m frightened! Presently ... presently they’ll be spitting here!... In the bedroom next, Oorip!... Call out that there’s to be no one in the garden! I won’t put the kimono on again! Quickly, Oorip, call out! I want to get away!”

The maid called across the garden, in Javanese.

LÉonie, all dripping, stepped out of the water and, naked and wet, flew past the servants’ rooms, with the maid behind her. Inside the house, Van Oudijck, frantic with anxiety, came running towards her.

“Go away, Otto! Leave me alone! I’ve ... I’ve got nothing on!” she screamed.

And she rushed into her room and, when Oorip had followed her, locked all the doors.

In the garden, the servants crept together, under the sloping roof of the verandah, close to the house. The thunder was muttering softly and a silent rain was beginning to fall....