many cousins, had kicked the ragga ball, while the elders sat about and watched
and talked and chewed betel-nut. There were great rice curries on brass plates,
with forty sambuls> within easy reach of all, luscious mangosteens, creamy
durians and mangoes, and betel-nuts with lemon leaves and lime and spices.
Fires burned about among the graceful palms at night, and lit up the silken
sarongs and polished kris handles of the men, and gold-run kabayas of the
women.
The Prince came as he promised, just as the old Kadi had pronounced the couple
man and wife, and laid at Anak’s feet a wide gold bracelet set with sapphires,
and engraven with the arms of Johore. He dropped his eyes to conceal the look
of pity and abhorrence that her swollen gums and disfigured features inspired,
and as he passed across the mats on the bamboo floor he inwardly cursed the
customs of his people that destroyed the beauty of its women. He had lived
among the English of Singapore, and dined at the English Governor’s table.
A groan escaped the girl’s lips as she dropped back among the cushions of her
tinsel throne. Noa saw the little tragedy, and for the first time understood its full
import. He ground his teeth together, and his hand worked uneasily along the
scabbard of his kris.
In another moment the room was empty, and the bride and groom were left side
by side on the gaudily bedecked platform, to mix and partake of their first betel-
nut together. Mechanically Noa picked the broken fragments of the nut from its
brass cup, from another a syrah leaf smeared with lime, added a clove, a
cardamom, and a scraping of mace, and handed it to his bride. She took it
without raising her eyes, and placed it against her bleeding gums. In a moment a
bright red juice oozed from between her lips and ran down the corner of her
distorted mouth. Noa extended his hand, and she gave him the half-masticated
mass. He raised it to his own mouth, and then for the first time looked the girl
full in the face.
There was no love-light in the drooping brown eyes before him. The syrah-
stained lips were slightly parted, exposing the feverish gums, and short, black
teeth. Her hands hung listlessly by her side, and only for the color that came and
went beneath the rouge of her brown cheeks, she might have been dead to this
last sacred act of their marriage vows.