He was one of the wisest and most noble princes that the government has ever had on Java, and you know how highly the government esteemed the pangéran. Even in the days of the Dutch East India Company, Holland was greatly indebted to your family, which was always loyal. But times appear to be changing… It is very sad, Prince, that an old Javanese family with such an exalted tradition as yours is no longer able to adhere to that tradition…”

Radèn Adipati Surio Sunario turned a shade of olive green. His trancelike gaze pierced the District Commissioner, but he saw that the Commissioner too was seething with rage. And he smothered his strange flashing gaze till it became a sleepy, tired look.

“I thought, Commissioner, that you had always felt affection for my house,” he murmured, almost plaintively.

“You thought correctly, Prince. I held the pangéran in great affection. I have always admired your noble house, and I have always tried to support it. I should like to continue to support it, together with you, Prince, hoping that you see not only—as you are said to—the world beyond this one, but also the reality around you. But it is your brother, Prince, for whom I feel no affection and whom I cannot possibly respect. I have been told—and can trust those who told me—that the Prince of Ngajiwa has not only gambled… but has also failed to pay the chiefs of Ngajiwa their salaries this month…”

They looked each other in the eye and Van Oudijck’s calm, assured gaze once again met the Prince’s flashing trancelike stare.

“Your informants may be mistaken…”

“I suspect that they would not bring such reports without having absolute certainty. Prince, this matter is very sensitive. Once again: you are the head of your family. Investigate the extent to which your younger brother has misused government funds and ensure that complete reparation is made as soon as possible. I am deliberately leaving the matter to you. I shall not raise the question with your brother, in order to spare a member of your family for as long as I can. It is up to you to reprimand your brother and point out to him what in my eyes is a crime, but one which you through your prestige as head of the family can still expunge. Forbid him to go on gambling and order him to keep his passion in check. Otherwise, I foresee very regrettable consequences, and I shall have to recommend your brother’s dismissal. You yourself know how reluctant I am to do this, since the Prince of Ngajiwa is the second son of the old pangéran, whom I held in high esteem, just as I would always wish to spare your mother, the radèn-ayu pangéran, any kind of sorrow.”

“I thank you…” murmured Sunario.

“Take good note of what I am saying to you, Prince. If you cannot make your brother see reason, and control his passion—if the salaries of the heads are not paid as soon as possible… then I shall be forced to act. And if my warning is to no avail… that would mean your brother’s downfall. You yourself know that the dismissal of a prince is such an exceptional event that it would bring shame upon your family. Help me to save the house of the Adiningrats from such ignominy.”

“I promise,” murmured the Prince.

“Give me your hand, Prince.”

Van Oudijck pressed the thin fingers of the Javanese.

“Can I trust you?” he asked urgently.

“In life… in death…”

“Let us go in then. And let me know your findings as soon as possible…”

The Prince bowed. His pale olive skin betrayed the silent, hidden rage churning inside him like the magma of a volcano. His eyes drilled with silent hatred into Van Oudijck’s back, the Dutchman, the base Dutchman, the commoner, the unclean dog, the infidel Christian, who, whatever he might feel in his polluted soul, had no business concerning himself with anything of his, his house, his father, his mother, their sacrosanct nobility and aristocracy… even though they had always bowed under the yoke of superior strength…

3

“I’M COUNTING ON YOU to stay for dinner,” said Eva.

“Of course,” replied Controller Van Helderen and his wife.

The reception—not a reception, as Eva always pleaded—was coming to an end: the Van Oudijck’s had left first; the Prince followed. The Eldersma’s were left alone with their intimate circle: Doctor Rantzow, senior engineer Doorn de Bruijn, with their wives and the Van Helderens. They sat down on the front veranda with some sense of relief and rocked comfortably to and fro. Whisky sodas and lemonade with great chunks of ice were served.

“Always full to burst, Eva’s reception,” said Mrs Van Helderen. “Fuller than last time at the Commissioner’s…”

Ida van Helderen was a typical white Eurasian, who always tried to behave in a very European way, and speak correct Dutch; she even pretended to speak bad Malay and not like either rijsttafel or spicy fruit salad.