Lovers In Paradise. Barbara Cartland

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “For the peasant one Ruler is very like another.”

      “I doubt if that is true,” the Count commented, but he did not wish to make an issue of it.

      They reached the Governor’s Palace, which was built in the style that could have been found in any part of the East. The large high rooms had punkahs swinging on every ceiling, but even so the heavy moist air seemed overpowering.

      It had been a long drive from the Harbour but, although the Governor suggested that the Count might wish to retire to his own rooms, he refused.

      Instead he sat down in the large and comfortable sitting room and, while the Governor ordered drinks, said with a note of authority in his voice,

      “I am anxious while I am here to see the whole workings of your administration. The Queen Dowager has asked me to make a special report on North Bali.”

      “I gathered that was why you had come here,” the Governor answered. “I only hope that the report you make will make it easy for us to obtain more guns and cannon so that we can conquer the rest of the Island.”

      “That is not what I intend,” the Count replied, “but I will certainly put your request in my report if that is what you wish.”

      “It must certainly be the obvious conclusion to our occupation,” the Governor replied.

      He was about to say more when a servant came to his side.

      “What is it?” he asked testily.

      “The Juffrouw Barclay, who you asked to visit you yesterday is here, Your Excellency.”

      “I said yesterday!” the Governor replied sharply.

      “I think that the Juffrouw will make her apologies, Your Excellency, but she could not come.”

      The Governor rose to his feet.

      “If you will forgive me,” he said to the Count, “there is someone who wishes to see me.”

      “Barclay does not sound like a Dutch name.”

      “The young lady is in fact English.”

      “English? Here in Bali?”

      As if he was reluctant to give out any further information, the Governor said,

      “She came out here with her uncle who was Dutch and a Missionary.”

      “A Missionary!”

      There was no doubt that the Count was surprised.

      He had read in the books he had studied on the voyage over that in 1877 a law had been passed forbidding any Missionary to settle in Bali.

      “As you cannot be aware,” the Governor explained seeing the expression on the Count’s face, “temporary terms were accorded last year to both Catholic and Protestant Missionaries, who wished to make a further attempt to carry on their work.”

      “I did not know that,” the Count responded.

      “It was, I do believe, entirely on the instigation of the Churches at home who felt that we were lacking in duty if we denied these heathens the benefits and comfort of Christianity.”

      “I understood that the Balinese have a definite religion of their own,” the Count queried.

      “That is true.”

      “I also learnt that the plight of the first Christian convert has become legendary,” the Count said.

      It was a story which the Count had found in every book he had perused about the Island. The man’s name had been Nicodemus and he had been both a pupil and a servant of the first Missionary who had set foot in Bali.

      When the community he belonged to learnt that he had become a Christian they expelled him from his village, banned him from contact with his people and proclaimed him morally ‘dead’.

      The unfortunate man tried to recruit other followers, but the villagers, terrorised by the threats to their Priests, ignored him.

      Repulsed on all sides, poor Nicodemus had led an intolerable existence until driven to despair he had finally killed his Master and given himself up to be executed.

      It was not surprising, the Count thought, that a law forbidding Missionaries had come into force. He found it hard to believe that only fourteen years later that things would be so changed that Christian Missionaries would again be accepted.

      He then looked at the Governor and had a feeling that he was uncomfortable and was concealing something.

      Making up his mind on the impulse of the moment, the Count suggested,

      “I would like to meet this woman who has come here to see you. It would give me a chance to find out how her Mission is working.”

      “It is not her mission,” the Governor stated in a surly manner. “It was her uncle’s.”

      “But she works with him?”

      “He is dead!”

      “Dead?” the Count questioned.

      “He died two months ago.”

      “Naturally – or was he killed?”

      “Naturally.”

      “Then I presume his niece is carrying on his good work. Let me talk to her.”

      The Count thought that the Governor was going to defy him and refuse to allow him to see the woman who was waiting outside.

      It was only an impression and yet the Count was certain that he was not mistaken.

      For some reason that he could not understand the Governor was very reluctant for him to come into contact with this Miss Barclay, which was the way, being English, he knew that she would be addressed.

      For a moment the eyes of the two men met and it was as if there were a silent combat between them.

      Then the Governor capitulated.

      “Show the Juffrouw in,” he said to the servant and sat down again.

      The Count was intrigued.

      Had he so soon after setting foot in Bali discovered something perhaps reprehensible that the Governor had no wish for him to know about or investigate?

      For the first time his boredom lightened a little and he felt a spark of interest that had not been there before.

      He was amused that he had been able to assert his will over an older man, whom he had realised at their first meeting, enjoyed and took advantage of every privilege he was accorded as Governor.

      Neither of the men spoke until the servant announced from the doorway,

      “The Juffrouw СКАЧАТЬ