being made a cat's-paw of by his old enemies and their astute master.
Hardly had the interview opened before Mat Kilau, the youthful leader of the war party, cut abruptly into the conversation. Assuming an air of incredulous astonishment, I ignored him and turned to the Dâto'.
"I came hither," I said, "to see you, to discuss matters with those possessed of knowledge and understanding, not to bandy words with babes. Is il fitting, then, and is it approved by ancient custom. that one who has but recently been weaned, one whose age is that of a season of maize, should disturb with his babble the grave conferences of his elders?"
I was laying myself open to an obvious retort, but I question whether this occurred to my audience, and the appeal to custom, which is the great Malayan fetish, was a sure card. Mat Kilau was promptly suppressed, and with him the war party was silenee.! at the outset.
This point gained, I next addressed myself to a statement of the case as it presented itself, I averred, to the eye of common sense.
Behold a war had broken out, and certain evilly disposed persons were fighting the British Govern- ment. Either this was being done by the Sultan's orders, or it was not. If it were, doubtless the Sultan had issued his mandate under his seal, thus assuming responsibility for all that might befall. If the Dâto' would produce such a document, I should have no further word to say. No written order, I was told,
