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it.
    Suddenly, a loud hammering noise came from the living room, and I realised that someone was beating on the outer door of the apartment.
    The man on the terrace peered round and then went through the open window into the living room. The door into the bedroom was open and we saw him cross towards the hall. A moment later there was the sound of the bolts of the door being shot back and a murmur of voices. The lights in there went on.
    I stood up. My dressing gown was lying on a chair and I tossed it to Rosalie. Then, putting my finger to my lips, to warn her to keep quiet, I walked through into the living room.
    There were several voices murmuring in the corridor now. Suddenly, there was a sound of sharp footsteps approaching and the voices were hushed.
    A Sundanese voice said: “At your service, Major
tuan
.”
    A moment later, Major Suparto walked into the room.

4
    H e did not recognise me at once. His pistol holster was unfastened and his hand went to it quickly. At the same moment he called sharply to the soldiers in the corridor. As he levelled the pistol, two of them ran in through the doorway. They had the long chopping-knives called
parangs
in their hands, and as soon as they saw me they started forward with a shout.
    I had opened my mouth to tell him who I was, but it all happened so quickly that I was still gagging over the words when he yelled to the two men to halt. They were within a yard of me with their
parangs
raised to strike, and their teeth clenched in the mad killing grimace. Another second and he could not have stopped them hacking me to pieces. As it was, they stood there dazed, their faces gradually regaining a stupid sort of sanity as they lowered their arms.
    Suparto came towards me, thrusting them aside.
    “What is this?” he demanded. “Why are you here?”
    I was so unnerved that it did not occur to me that those should have been my questions. Idiotically, I started to explain about hearing someone climbing on to the terrace. He cut me short.
    “The owner of this apartment is in Makassar.”
    “I know. He lent it to me.”
    He swore, stared at me bitterly for a moment and then motioned to the two soldiers to stand back.
    They retreated, awkwardly as if they had been reprimanded. I was coming to my senses again now and realised that there was something unfamiliar about their uniforms. The trousers were of khaki drill, but it was not the same khaki that I had seen on other troops in the city. And both men were wearing a sort of yellow brassard on the left arm. So was Suparto.
    “Are you alone?”
    “No.”
    “Who is here with you?”
    “A woman.”
    He moved past me swiftly to the bedroom door and went in.
    Rosalie stood in the centre of the room. She was turning back the sleeves of my dressing gown. As she swung round to face him, her hands dropped to her sides, but she made no other movement.
    “Your name?” he said.
    “Rosalie Linden,
tuan
.”
    He turned the light in the bedroom on, then looked from one to the other of us.
    “You can see we’re both quite harmless, Major,” I said.
    “Possibly. But your presence is inconvenient. Are you armed?”
    “There’s a revolver in that case under the bed.”
    He looked at Rosalie. “Pull the case out. Do not open it.”
    As she obeyed, he called in the N.C.O. and told him to take the revolver. Then he looked at me, his lips tightening.
    “Armed men enter your apartment in the middle of the night and steal your property. Yet, you say nothing, you make no protest. Why, Mr. Fraser?”
    “The men are wearing uniforms and this is Selampang, not London.”
    “You do not even ask questions?”
    “That would be a bit pointless, wouldn’t it?”
    “Because you think that you already know the answers?”
    I knew that it was dangerous to go on pretending to be stupid. I shrugged. “Less than forty-eight hours ago you were in Tangga, Major. You didn’t come here by sea or air and those men outside are not Government troops. I presume