anyone, all by himself, on his own responsibility, and without long-drawn deliberations or “consultations,” had been able to proceed to such unheard-of performance of his duty. As, however, Verbrugge, in strict accordance with the truth, maintained his ignorance of the letters written by Havelaar, the Resident, after many exclamations of almost unbelieving amazement, was at last compelled to accept his statement, and he next, I don’t know why, started to read those letters.
What Verbrugge suffered in listening to this would be difficult to describe. He was an honest man, and would certainly not have told a lie if Havelaar had appealed to him for confirmation of the truth of the contents of those letters. But even without this proof of honesty, in many written reports he had not always been able to avoid speaking the truth, often when such truth was dangerous. What would happen if Havelaar were to make use of these reports?
After reading the letters the Resident stated that it would please him if Havelaar would take back these documents, so that they might be considered as not written. This proposal was declined with courteous firmness. After some vain efforts to persuade Havelaar, the Resident said that nothing was left for him but to institute an inquiry into the truth of the complaints made, and that therefore he must request Havelaar to have the witnesses called who could substantiate his charges.
Poor people who had torn your flesh at the thorn-bushes in the ravine, how anxiously would your hearts have beaten if you could have heard this demand!
Poor Verbrugge! You, first witness, chief witness, witness ex officio, witness by virtue of office and oath! Witness who had already borne witness in writing! In writing that lay there, on the table, under Havelaar’s hand. . . .
Havelaar answered:
“Resident, I am the Assistant-Resident of Lebak, I have promised to protect the population from extortion and violence, I accuse the Regent, and his son-in-law of Parang Koodyang; I shall prove
