written from Sumatra?"

"Yes; but why so many questions?"

"To assure myself that you are really the son of Kadja-sing, and to
execute the orders I have received."

"From whom?"

"From General Simon."

"But where is he?"

"When I have proof that you are Prince Djalma, I will tell you. I was
informed that you would be mounted on a black mare, with a red bridle.
But--"

"By the soul of my mother! speak what you have to say!"

"I will tell you all--if you can tell me what was the printed paper,
contained in the last letter that General Simon wrote you from Sumatra."

"It was a cutting from a French newspaper."

"Did it announce good or bad news for the general?"

"Good news--for it related that, during his absence, they had
acknowledged the last rank and title bestowed on him by the Emperor, as
they had done for others of his brothers in arms, exiled like him."

"You are indeed Prince Djalma," said the Smuggler, after a moment's
reflection. "I may speak. General Simon landed last night in Java, but
on a desert part of the coast."

"On a desert part?"

"Because he has to hide himself."

"Hide himself!" exclaimed Djalma, in amazement; "why?"

"That I don't know."

"But where is he?" asked Djalma, growing pale with alarm.

"He is three leagues hence--near the sea-shore--in the ruins of
Tchandi."

"Obliged to hide himself!" repeated Djalma, and his countenance
expressed increasing surprise and anxiety.

"Without being certain, I think it is because of a duel he fought in
Sumatra," said the Smuggler, mysteriously.

"A duel--with whom?"

"I don't know--I am not at all certain on the subject. But do you know
the ruins of Tchandi?"

"Yes."

"The general expects you there; that is what he ordered me to tell you."

"So you came with him from Sumatra?"

"I was pilot of the little smuggling coaster, that landed him in the
night on a lonely beach. He knew that you went every day to the mole,
to wait for him; I was almost sure that I should meet you. He gave me
details about the letter you received from him as a proof that he had
sent me. If he could have found the means of writing, he would have
written."

"But he did not tell you why he was obliged to hide himself?"

"He told me nothing. Certain words made me suspect what I told you--a
duel."

Knowing the mettle of General Simon, Djalma thought the suspicions of
the Smuggler not unfounded. After a moment's silence he said to him:
"Can you under