nee will always watch
over us, intrepid hunters of men! Courage, brothers, courage! The world
is large; our prey is everywhere. The English may force us to quit India,
three chiefs of the good work--but what matter? We leave there our
brethren, secret, numerous, and terrible, as black scorpions, whose
presence is only known by their mortal sting. Exiles will widen our
domains. Brother, you shall have America!" said he to the Hindoo, with an
inspired air. "Brother, you shall have Africa!" said he to the negro.
"Brothers, I will take Europe! Wherever men are to be found, there must
be oppressors and victims--wherever there are victims, there must be
hearts swollen with hate--it is for us to inflame that hate with all the
ardor of vengeance! It is for us, servants of Bowanee, to draw towards
us, by seducing wiles, all whose zeal, courage, and audacity may be
useful to the cause. Let us rival each other in devotion and sacrifices;
let us lend each other strength, help, support! That all who are not with
us may be our prey, let us stand alone in the midst of all, against all,
and in spite of all. For us, there must be neither country nor family.
Our family is composed of our brethren; our country is the world."

This kind of savage eloquence made a deep impression on the negro and the
Indian, over whom Faringhea generally exercised considerable influence,
his intellectual powers being very superior to theirs, though they were
themselves two of the most eminent chiefs of this bloody association.
"Yes, you are right, brother!" cried the Indian, sharing the enthusiasm
of Faringhea; "the world is ours. Even here, in Java, let us leave some
trace of our passage. Before we depart, let us establish the good work in
this island; it will increase quickly, for here also is great misery, and
the Dutch are rapacious as the English. Brother, I have seen in the
marshy rice-fields of this island, always fatal to those who cultivate
them, men whom absolute want forced to the deadly task--they were livid
as corpses--some of them worn out with sickness, fatigue, and hunger,
fell--never to rise again. Brothers, the good work will prosper in this
country!"

"The other evening," said the half-caste, "I was on the banks of the
lake, behind a rock; a young woman came there--a few rags hardly covered
her lean and sun-scorched body--in her arms she held a little child,
which she pressed weeping to her milkless breast. She kissed it three
times, and