Singapore. To sit at table with so many Europeans would at any time have been a new sensation to X., but to suddenly find himself one of such a distinguished company was almost alarming in its novelty. However, being happily situated by the side of Beauty, the situation expanded generally, and had any member of The Community been watching, he might have thought that X. was proving false to the creed that there was no place like Pura Pura for a man to dwell in.

That which to the other diners was a matter of every day, to him was both a present pleasure and a glimpse of the past.

It was, of course, quite hopeless to attempt to explain to anyone whence he came, or where he lived, for the very name of Pura Pura was unknown to them, and so it was necessary to pose as a passenger passing through en route to Java.

Some amongst the company had been to Java (including the host), and all spoke in high terms of the civility to be found there.

In the morning the traveller took leave of his kind host, who left first at 5.30 a.m. for some early little game of war, a description of which would probably have been as vague to a civilian as would the geographical position of Pura Pura, or the exact official status of X., to members of the company of the previous evening. The great soldier having driven off in full uniform through a throng of salaaming menials of various nationalities, X. entered his humble gharry, and, followed by Usoof and Abu, drove to the Messagerie wharf. The steamer for Batavia was the s.s. Godavery, which was in connection with the mails for home. The cost of the passage is, perhaps, for the actual distance travelled, the most expensive in the world. The time taken by the voyage is thirty-six hours.

CHAPTER V.
BATAVIA.

The voyage on board the Godavery resembled similar ones, with the notable difference that the excellent cuisine made X. wish that the time to be spent in transit were longer. The only people who were not contented were Usoof and Abu, for each of whom their employer was paying the sum of three dollars a night. These particular Mahomedans refused to touch the food shovelled out to them, and to crowds of natives of all colour and class—by the rough and ready Chinese servants, and towards the end of the second day, having eaten nothing, they presented a very woebegone and miserable appearance. However, a few more judiciously placed dollars produced them a square meal of bread and tea, after which they smiled.

There is perhaps no sensation so agreeable as the arrival in a strange port. Thoughts and conjectures as to the possibilities that lie beyond the landing place are innumerable, and fancy and anticipation are equally strong. When the Godavery steamed into Batavia it was still dark and the rain was coming down in torrents. It all looked miserable enough, but, once alongside the wharf, daylight began to appear and the passengers trooped ashore. The station was more than a quarter of a mile from the place of landing, and this distance the poor people had to hurry along in the rain.

The unfortunate natives—carrying bundles containing their belongings—were drenched to the skin. Also the European passengers—less objects of pity, as only the portion of their wardrobe actually worn was exposed to the rain—came in for a considerable share of the moisture of that wet arrival. It is true there was a magnificent covered way, but this was hopelessly blocked up with trucks and other railway gear, which were, presumably, more susceptible to cold than the passengers. The luggage was quickly and courteously passed by the Custom House officials, and the travellers entered a luxuriously fitted train—apparently a show train, as X. never met another like it in Java.

Arrival in Batavia town created a good first impression, as there were no pestering crowds, as there are in Singapore, and there were many carriages waiting for hire, all two-horsed and good.

The drive to the hotel was a long one, through the business portions of the town, till the residential side was reached. Here detached houses are situated alongside the principal road, on the other side of which flows a canal, giving to the place an appropriate Dutch appearance.

The hotel was a most imposing building outside, with apparently countless rooms, but the thing which immediately struck X. as something uncommon was the fact that the floors of the apartments were level with the ground and not raised as is the case in Singapore and the Peninsula, and he felt feverish as he noticed it. The traveller was allotted a fair sized room opening on to a court yard, with other rooms and other openings to the right and to the left, and in fact all round him, and in front of these rooms sat people in every stage of deshabille. There seemed to be no privacy and what, perhaps, under the circumstances was fortunate,—no shyness. X. however had not yet reached that point of his observations, and, entering his room, he shut the door and ordered his first meal in Java. This turned out to be a terrible repast, consisting of a plate of cold clammy selections from the interior of some edible beast, two cold hard-boiled eggs, three small cold fish roasted in cocoanut oil, and something intended to resemble ham and eggs. This first meal is mentioned in detail as it was but a foretaste of an equally trying series. X. thought of Dagonet and that power of description which, when relating dyspeptic woes, will compel the sympathy of the hardiest feeder.

It did not take long to skim hastily over the surface of these uninviting viands, and now X. turned his attention to the notices which stared at him from every wall. These in many languages threatened all travellers with penalties if, immediately after their arrival, they neglected to obtain permission to reside in Netherlands India. After reading this, X. lost no time in sending for a conveyance to drive to the British Consulate. The gentleman who received him there was extremely civil and gave him all the information in his power. It appeared that if the traveller was anxious for facts about Java, the officials of that country were equally so in requiring the same from him, and he was obliged to fill in a printed form stating his age, birthplace, residence and occupation, etc., and, when this was done, pay one guilder and a half for his trouble. The next step was to go to the Bank, and nothing could exceed the kindness with which he was received at this place, and the thoughtful manager assisted the stranger to decide where he had better go in order to best see something of the country, and what was most to the point, wrote for him the names of places and hotels which seem outlandish and terrible on first meeting with them. X. learnt to his dismay that the system of obtaining money by cheque was almost unknown, and it would always be necessary to carry money and, when more was wanted, receive it by registered letter through the post. The idea of carrying ready money to a person who had for years followed the customs of the East and depended on cheques and "chits," seemed a new trouble for which he had not been prepared. On the drive back to the hotel through streets sloppy with mud, the first new impression made upon the traveller was caused by the number of natives selling vegetables—good wholesome English