s a student, he could never hope
to excel; so he set his heart on acquiring the _elemu hulubalang_ or
occult sciences, which it behoves a fighting man to possess. In
Trengganu there were few warriors to teach him the lore he desired to
learn, though he was a pupil of Tungku Long Pendekar, who was skilled in
fencing and other kindred arts. At night-time, therefore, he took to
haunting graveyards, in the hope that the ghosts of the mighty dead--the
warriors of ancient times--would appear to him and instruct him in the
sciences which had died with them.

Women are notoriously perverse, and To' Kaya's wife persisted in
misunderstanding the motives which kept him abroad far into the night.
She attributed his absences to the blandishments of some unknown lady,
and she refused to be pacified by his explanations, just as other wives,
in more civilised communities, have obstinately disregarded the excuses
of their husbands, when the latter have pleaded that 'business' has
detained them.

At length, for the sake of peace and quietness, To' Kaya abandoned his
nocturnal prowls among the graves, and settled down to live the orderly
domestic life for which he was best fitted, and which he had only
temporarily forsaken when the Sultan's ill-advised selection of him to
fill a high post, and to bear a great name, had interrupted the even
tenor of his ways.

One day, his father, To' Bentara Haji, fell sick, and was removed to the
house of one Che' Ali, a medicine man of some repute. To' Kaya was a
dutiful son, and he paid many visits to his father in his sickness,
tending him unceasingly, and consequently he did not return to his home
until late at night. I have said that this was an old cause of offence,
and angry recriminations passed between him and his wife, which were
only made more bitter because To' Kaya mistook a stringy piece of egg,
in his wife's sweetmeats, for a human hair. To a European, this does not
sound a very important matter, but To' Kaya, in common with many Malays,
believed that a hair in his food betokened that the dish was poisoned,
and he refused to touch it, hinting that his wife desired his death.
Next night he was also absent until a late hour, tending his father in
his sickness, and, on his return, his wife again abused him for
infidelity to her. He cried to her to unbar the door, which, at length,
she did, using many injurious words the while, and he, in his anger,
replied that he would shortly have to sta