Chapter Thirteen.

Chapter Thirteen.The Doctor’s Call.In spite of the Resident’s doubts and expressed opinion that the two Rajahs would display resentment, the neighbourhood settled down calmly enough. The village people nearest, notwithstanding their being chased helter-skelter, mixed up with the Rajah’s followers, very soon showed that they had thoroughly enjoyed the fun of seeing Suleiman’s haughty, tyrannical gang scared away and running as if for their lives.The people of the more distant campongs came in just as usual, bringing their fruit and poultry to market as before; and though the half-military-looking armed men did not make their appearance, the Resident was bound to confess that this was not a bad sign, as they had rarely approached the cantonments to mingle with the soldiers off duty.A few days elapsed, and then a present was sent in, consisting of supplies, by Rajah Hamet; and the very next day two of Suleiman’s chiefs brought in a letter, written in English, but dotted with French allusions which suggested its source.It was an invitation for the Major and his officers to a tiger-hunt. This was considered, and then the Major replied in the most friendly way, begging to be excused on the ground that it was impossible to accept the invitation then, but asking for it to be repeated later on.The weather was lovely, there being a succession of brilliant moonlight nights; while before the moon rose, even the Doctor declared that the display made by the fire-flies in the darkness was simply glorious.One evening Sir Charles was dining at the bungalow, and, having got over his nervous doubts, upon hearing Minnie express a desire to go up the river and see the fire-flies first, and the rising of the moon after, the Resident at once proposed to have his smaller boat prepared, with a couple of his most trusty native servants to pole it a short distance up the river, and then bring the Doctor and the two ladies back to supper at the Residency.Minnie was delighted; but, to the Resident’s great satisfaction, her aunt declared at once that she would not go up the river by night on account of the crocodiles.“I don’t want to throw a wet blanket over Sir Charles’s kindly suggested trip,” she said, “but I certainly will not go.”“Oh, there’s no danger to be feared, my dear madam,” said Sir Charles. “The reptiles would never dare to attack a well-manned boat.”“Never,” said the Doctor emphatically.“But they might, my dear,” replied Mrs Morley. “You can go, but I shall certainly stay.”“You talk very glibly,” grunted the Doctor, “about my going; but suppose I am wanted?”“Well, if you are, it will only be for some trivial ailment amongst the native people, and I should know what to give them.”“What!” cried the Doctor.—“Why, my dear Dallas, the last time she meddled with my bottles she nearly poisoned one of my patients.”“For shame, Henry!—Don’t you believe him, Sir Charles. I am sure I did the poor woman a great deal of good.”“It’s all very fine,” said the Doctor. “I must confess the woman did get better; and if madam had quite poisoned her, as she was a native it wouldn’t have mattered much.”“Oh uncle, for shame!—He doesn’t mean it, Sir Charles,” said Minnie.“But it would have spoilt my credit,” continued the Doctor; “and there, I don’t want to see a lot of blow-flies with lights in their tails; so, once for all, I sha’n’t go.”“But you ought to go, my dear,” said Mrs Morley, who looked rather annoyed.“Why?”“Why? To take care of Minnie.”“It doesn’t take two men as well as a couple of servants to take care of one little girl. Don’t talk stuff, my dear. I’m sure Sir Charles will take every care of her.”Mrs Morley said no more, and Sir Charles left at last with the matter entirely settled to his satisfaction, while Minnie smiled in answer to a few words respecting the old folks leaving them to themselves.The evening promised to be perfect, and Minnie was waiting for their visitor, when, just as she was beginning to be impatient, a note was brought from the Resident stating that Rajah Hamet had come up the river unexpectedly to discuss a question relating to the possibility of some stronger alliance.“I am horribly disappointed,” wrote the Resident, “but it is a Government matter, and your uncle will understand with me that I am only too much delighted to find that this again proves that my doubts were all wrong, and that I am glad to welcome the Rajah here. He evidently means to stop the night, and I have sent in for Major Knowle to join us. Under the circumstances I feel that I dare not come. However, you shall not be disappointed; the boat is waiting with two picked men, and I must beg that your uncle and aunt will be your companions.”“There, old lady,” said the Doctor as, in a disappointed tone, his niece finished reading the letter. “It will be rude to Sir Charles, as well as a bitter disappointment to Minnie. Come, there’s no cause for alarm. If there were I would not ask you. Say you will come.”“No, Henry,” replied the lady firmly; “I will not.”“Oh, very well,” said the Doctor, as he saw the tears rising in his niece’s eyes. “You sha’n’t be disappointed, Minnie. We will risk your aunt giving some poor woman a lotion to take instead of a draught. Get your cloak and veil. We mustn’t have any trouble from the night air. I’ll take you myself.—Hullo! What in the name of wonder does this mean? An elephant—another Rajah!”“Two of them,” said Mrs Morley anxiously, “and they are coming here.”“Yes,” said the Doctor, stepping out into the veranda of his pretty bungalow to meet his visitors, as the great, soft-footed, howdah-bearing beast was checked by his mahout at the bamboo fence. One of the two Malay officers bent down to inform him that the Rajah Suleiman had been out shooting that morning with his French friend, and that, after firing at a tiger, the wounded beast had leaped upon the Rajah’s elephant, and Suleiman and his friend had both been mauled. The bearers of the message stated that the Doctor must come at once.“Can’t help it, my child,” said the Doctor. “I am sorry for your disappointment, but it is impossible for me to refuse. In an ordinary case I might postpone my visit, but, you see, Suleiman is our friend, and it is most important that I should be off at once.”“But, my dear,” exclaimed Minnie’s aunt, “it means your being away all night.”“Of course; and if he’s very bad I may have to stay two or three days. There, I can’t stop talking. Get me my little bag while I fetch my instruments and some dressing.”Without a word Mrs Morley hurried to obtain what was required, and the Doctor patted his niece on the shoulder.“Never mind, my dear. We must give it up. Dallas will be able to go with you another time, and you will enjoy your trip better.”Minnie nodded.“I won’t mind, uncle—much. But it never rains but it pours: here’s somebody else wants you.”“Young Archie! What does he want?”He soon knew, for the lad hurried up, glancing at the two Malays upon the elephant, giving Minnie a quick nod, and then catching the Doctor by the arm and hurrying him into the nearest room.“The Major sent me to know what these two swells want. He thinks they have come to your place instead of to him.”The Doctor explained at once, and then a sudden thought occurred to him.“Look here,” he said; “you know Sir Charles was going to take us up the river in his boat this evening?”“Yes, I know. He’s got Rajah Hamet, and the Major’s going into the Residency. That’s why the chief thinks those chaps on the elephant have come to the wrong house.”“Well, look here, my lad; you must take my place.”“What!” cried the lad, staring. “I could pour him out a dose of physic, or I could tackle a native, but I wouldn’t undertake to dress a Rajah’s wounds.”“What are you talking about, stupid?” cried the Doctor angrily. “I mean, take my place and escort Minnie up the river in the Resident’s boat.”“De-lighted!” cried the lad excitedly. “Of course—but I don’t know whether the Major will give me leave, as Rajah Hamet’s here. Here, I’ll run back as fast as I can, and be with you, if it’s all right, in no time.”“Yes, do. I don’t want the poor girl to be disappointed; and you will take care of her?”“Of course!”Archie was turning to go, when the Doctor caught him by the arm. “There’s no need. I will jump up on the elephant as soon as I have got my bag, and go round by headquarters and make it right with the Major.”“Yes, sir, do. Capital!—But no, no. He sent me to find out, and he won’t like it. I must go, Doctor.”“What! am I not surgeon to this force, and are not all officers under me? Here, I will make him like it. You mind what I say—I give you leave to go.”Just then Minnie and her aunt came to the door with the Doctor’s bag, and Archie hesitated.“Look here, Minnie,” he cried, hurrying to her side; “I am going to— No, no,” he said, giving his foot a stamp, “I can’t! I will not, Doctor. Here, I will run on and get back. Look here; you see how important it is. Here’s Down coming as hard as he can to see why I have been so long.”“Confound you, sir!” cried the Doctor. “And when I’d settled the whole thing!—Here, you, Down, what do you want?”The Captain came up quickly, and the state of affairs was explained, ending with the new-comer being introduced to the two Malay officers.“Look here,” said the Doctor, turning to the Captain; “you explain everything to the Major, and tell him I am off at once to Palm-Tree Palace, and am keeping Archie Maine here to take my place for an hour or two. You understand?”“Quite,” said the Captain.“Maine thinks, as the Major has sent him with a message to me, that he ought to go back; but your coming and the answer I send by you, I consider, will be sufficient to exonerate your subaltern. What do you say?”“Oh yes, sir; quite sufficient.”“Now, Archie, my lad, are you satisfied?”Archie turned to the Captain.“Give me your leave too.”“Certainly. I will make it right with the Major.”“All right, then, Doctor,” said Archie; and, satisfied now by the Captain going off with the required information, the lad stayed, busied himself with Mrs Morley and Minnie; and after seeing the Doctor mount the kneeling elephant with his bag and instruments, and then wishing him good speed, they stood watching the great, slowly pacing beast till, as it turned off to reach the forest path, there was a final wave of the hand from the Doctor, and the next minute he was out of sight.“That’s being a doctor’s wife, Minnie, my child; one never knows what to expect. Well, there, your uncle has gone off to do good. I never liked that Rajah’s looks, but I hope he isn’t badly hurt. Now then, what about this trip on the water? I really don’t like your going, my dear.”“Oh auntie, how can you be so nervous?”“I didn’t like your going even when your uncle was here.”“But, Mrs Morley, there’s nothing to be nervous about,” cried Archie.“My dear boy—”“I say, hang it all, Mrs Morley! you might call me a man now,” said Archie, interrupting her speech.“Yes, my dear, I have plenty of confidence in you; but it’s only you.”“Why, there will be the Resident’s two chief boatmen, won’t there?—You said there would be two men, didn’t you, Minnie?”“Yes, of course; and we shouldn’t be above an hour or two, aunt.”“No, I know, my dear; but—but—”“There, aunt dear, uncle’s going away so suddenly has upset you, and it does seem selfish of me.—Look here, Archie, it’s very kind of you to offer to take me, but it would be inconsiderate of me to go. I’ll give it up.”“Oh!” cried the lad, “I am disappointed.”“Yes, of course you would be,” said Mrs Morley; “and it’s foolish of me to make such a fuss about nothing. There, I am better now. I was a bit flurried by the Doctor going, to be away all night, and leaving us unprotected.”“And not a British soldier near,” said Archie laughingly.“Of course; of course,” said Mrs Morley. “You will take great care of her, my dear boy?”“Take care of her!” cried Archie. “Why, Sir Charles would have me out and shoot me, or wring my neck, if I didn’t. Look here, madam, I’m too fond of Lieutenant Archibald Maine to run any risks. Now are you satisfied?”“Quite,” said the Doctor’s wife, forcing a laugh.—“There, my dears, be off as soon as you can—but wait till I get a scarf.”“What are you going to do, auntie?”“See you down to the boat, of course, my dear.” A very few minutes later the Doctor’s wife was standing on the banks of the river watching the Resident’s handsomely fitted sampan—not his official dragon-boat—being punted by two sturdy men up the glistening waters, Minnie turning from time to time to wave her hand, and lastly her scarf, just as they disappeared.“It is foolish of me to be so nervous and frightened about crocodiles,” said Mrs Morley, as she turned her straining eyes from where she had been watching the boat. “There isn’t a sign of any of the horrible reptiles; and if it were dangerous those people would not be going up the river in the same direction;” and she remained watching a small naga with about half-a-dozen men plying their oars, sending the slightly built craft steadily up-stream. “Ah, well, I want to see them back. What a lovely evening it is going to be; but how rapidly the night closes in! I almost wish I had gone with them, for it will be very lovely when the moon begins to rise among the trees.”The Doctor’s wife gave a slight shiver as a faint waft of wind came sweeping over the tops of the forest trees, and she drew her scarf lightly over her head and shoulders as she quickened her steps to return to the bungalow. “It’s not cold,” she said half uneasily, “and yet I shivered. It’s as if the nervous feeling were coming back. Two hours! Well, they will soon slip by.”

In spite of the Resident’s doubts and expressed opinion that the two Rajahs would display resentment, the neighbourhood settled down calmly enough. The village people nearest, notwithstanding their being chased helter-skelter, mixed up with the Rajah’s followers, very soon showed that they had thoroughly enjoyed the fun of seeing Suleiman’s haughty, tyrannical gang scared away and running as if for their lives.

The people of the more distant campongs came in just as usual, bringing their fruit and poultry to market as before; and though the half-military-looking armed men did not make their appearance, the Resident was bound to confess that this was not a bad sign, as they had rarely approached the cantonments to mingle with the soldiers off duty.

A few days elapsed, and then a present was sent in, consisting of supplies, by Rajah Hamet; and the very next day two of Suleiman’s chiefs brought in a letter, written in English, but dotted with French allusions which suggested its source.

It was an invitation for the Major and his officers to a tiger-hunt. This was considered, and then the Major replied in the most friendly way, begging to be excused on the ground that it was impossible to accept the invitation then, but asking for it to be repeated later on.

The weather was lovely, there being a succession of brilliant moonlight nights; while before the moon rose, even the Doctor declared that the display made by the fire-flies in the darkness was simply glorious.

One evening Sir Charles was dining at the bungalow, and, having got over his nervous doubts, upon hearing Minnie express a desire to go up the river and see the fire-flies first, and the rising of the moon after, the Resident at once proposed to have his smaller boat prepared, with a couple of his most trusty native servants to pole it a short distance up the river, and then bring the Doctor and the two ladies back to supper at the Residency.

Minnie was delighted; but, to the Resident’s great satisfaction, her aunt declared at once that she would not go up the river by night on account of the crocodiles.

“I don’t want to throw a wet blanket over Sir Charles’s kindly suggested trip,” she said, “but I certainly will not go.”

“Oh, there’s no danger to be feared, my dear madam,” said Sir Charles. “The reptiles would never dare to attack a well-manned boat.”

“Never,” said the Doctor emphatically.

“But they might, my dear,” replied Mrs Morley. “You can go, but I shall certainly stay.”

“You talk very glibly,” grunted the Doctor, “about my going; but suppose I am wanted?”

“Well, if you are, it will only be for some trivial ailment amongst the native people, and I should know what to give them.”

“What!” cried the Doctor.—“Why, my dear Dallas, the last time she meddled with my bottles she nearly poisoned one of my patients.”

“For shame, Henry!—Don’t you believe him, Sir Charles. I am sure I did the poor woman a great deal of good.”

“It’s all very fine,” said the Doctor. “I must confess the woman did get better; and if madam had quite poisoned her, as she was a native it wouldn’t have mattered much.”

“Oh uncle, for shame!—He doesn’t mean it, Sir Charles,” said Minnie.

“But it would have spoilt my credit,” continued the Doctor; “and there, I don’t want to see a lot of blow-flies with lights in their tails; so, once for all, I sha’n’t go.”

“But you ought to go, my dear,” said Mrs Morley, who looked rather annoyed.

“Why?”

“Why? To take care of Minnie.”

“It doesn’t take two men as well as a couple of servants to take care of one little girl. Don’t talk stuff, my dear. I’m sure Sir Charles will take every care of her.”

Mrs Morley said no more, and Sir Charles left at last with the matter entirely settled to his satisfaction, while Minnie smiled in answer to a few words respecting the old folks leaving them to themselves.

The evening promised to be perfect, and Minnie was waiting for their visitor, when, just as she was beginning to be impatient, a note was brought from the Resident stating that Rajah Hamet had come up the river unexpectedly to discuss a question relating to the possibility of some stronger alliance.

“I am horribly disappointed,” wrote the Resident, “but it is a Government matter, and your uncle will understand with me that I am only too much delighted to find that this again proves that my doubts were all wrong, and that I am glad to welcome the Rajah here. He evidently means to stop the night, and I have sent in for Major Knowle to join us. Under the circumstances I feel that I dare not come. However, you shall not be disappointed; the boat is waiting with two picked men, and I must beg that your uncle and aunt will be your companions.”

“There, old lady,” said the Doctor as, in a disappointed tone, his niece finished reading the letter. “It will be rude to Sir Charles, as well as a bitter disappointment to Minnie. Come, there’s no cause for alarm. If there were I would not ask you. Say you will come.”

“No, Henry,” replied the lady firmly; “I will not.”

“Oh, very well,” said the Doctor, as he saw the tears rising in his niece’s eyes. “You sha’n’t be disappointed, Minnie. We will risk your aunt giving some poor woman a lotion to take instead of a draught. Get your cloak and veil. We mustn’t have any trouble from the night air. I’ll take you myself.—Hullo! What in the name of wonder does this mean? An elephant—another Rajah!”

“Two of them,” said Mrs Morley anxiously, “and they are coming here.”

“Yes,” said the Doctor, stepping out into the veranda of his pretty bungalow to meet his visitors, as the great, soft-footed, howdah-bearing beast was checked by his mahout at the bamboo fence. One of the two Malay officers bent down to inform him that the Rajah Suleiman had been out shooting that morning with his French friend, and that, after firing at a tiger, the wounded beast had leaped upon the Rajah’s elephant, and Suleiman and his friend had both been mauled. The bearers of the message stated that the Doctor must come at once.

“Can’t help it, my child,” said the Doctor. “I am sorry for your disappointment, but it is impossible for me to refuse. In an ordinary case I might postpone my visit, but, you see, Suleiman is our friend, and it is most important that I should be off at once.”

“But, my dear,” exclaimed Minnie’s aunt, “it means your being away all night.”

“Of course; and if he’s very bad I may have to stay two or three days. There, I can’t stop talking. Get me my little bag while I fetch my instruments and some dressing.”

Without a word Mrs Morley hurried to obtain what was required, and the Doctor patted his niece on the shoulder.

“Never mind, my dear. We must give it up. Dallas will be able to go with you another time, and you will enjoy your trip better.”

Minnie nodded.

“I won’t mind, uncle—much. But it never rains but it pours: here’s somebody else wants you.”

“Young Archie! What does he want?”

He soon knew, for the lad hurried up, glancing at the two Malays upon the elephant, giving Minnie a quick nod, and then catching the Doctor by the arm and hurrying him into the nearest room.

“The Major sent me to know what these two swells want. He thinks they have come to your place instead of to him.”

The Doctor explained at once, and then a sudden thought occurred to him.

“Look here,” he said; “you know Sir Charles was going to take us up the river in his boat this evening?”

“Yes, I know. He’s got Rajah Hamet, and the Major’s going into the Residency. That’s why the chief thinks those chaps on the elephant have come to the wrong house.”

“Well, look here, my lad; you must take my place.”

“What!” cried the lad, staring. “I could pour him out a dose of physic, or I could tackle a native, but I wouldn’t undertake to dress a Rajah’s wounds.”

“What are you talking about, stupid?” cried the Doctor angrily. “I mean, take my place and escort Minnie up the river in the Resident’s boat.”

“De-lighted!” cried the lad excitedly. “Of course—but I don’t know whether the Major will give me leave, as Rajah Hamet’s here. Here, I’ll run back as fast as I can, and be with you, if it’s all right, in no time.”

“Yes, do. I don’t want the poor girl to be disappointed; and you will take care of her?”

“Of course!”

Archie was turning to go, when the Doctor caught him by the arm. “There’s no need. I will jump up on the elephant as soon as I have got my bag, and go round by headquarters and make it right with the Major.”

“Yes, sir, do. Capital!—But no, no. He sent me to find out, and he won’t like it. I must go, Doctor.”

“What! am I not surgeon to this force, and are not all officers under me? Here, I will make him like it. You mind what I say—I give you leave to go.”

Just then Minnie and her aunt came to the door with the Doctor’s bag, and Archie hesitated.

“Look here, Minnie,” he cried, hurrying to her side; “I am going to— No, no,” he said, giving his foot a stamp, “I can’t! I will not, Doctor. Here, I will run on and get back. Look here; you see how important it is. Here’s Down coming as hard as he can to see why I have been so long.”

“Confound you, sir!” cried the Doctor. “And when I’d settled the whole thing!—Here, you, Down, what do you want?”

The Captain came up quickly, and the state of affairs was explained, ending with the new-comer being introduced to the two Malay officers.

“Look here,” said the Doctor, turning to the Captain; “you explain everything to the Major, and tell him I am off at once to Palm-Tree Palace, and am keeping Archie Maine here to take my place for an hour or two. You understand?”

“Quite,” said the Captain.

“Maine thinks, as the Major has sent him with a message to me, that he ought to go back; but your coming and the answer I send by you, I consider, will be sufficient to exonerate your subaltern. What do you say?”

“Oh yes, sir; quite sufficient.”

“Now, Archie, my lad, are you satisfied?”

Archie turned to the Captain.

“Give me your leave too.”

“Certainly. I will make it right with the Major.”

“All right, then, Doctor,” said Archie; and, satisfied now by the Captain going off with the required information, the lad stayed, busied himself with Mrs Morley and Minnie; and after seeing the Doctor mount the kneeling elephant with his bag and instruments, and then wishing him good speed, they stood watching the great, slowly pacing beast till, as it turned off to reach the forest path, there was a final wave of the hand from the Doctor, and the next minute he was out of sight.

“That’s being a doctor’s wife, Minnie, my child; one never knows what to expect. Well, there, your uncle has gone off to do good. I never liked that Rajah’s looks, but I hope he isn’t badly hurt. Now then, what about this trip on the water? I really don’t like your going, my dear.”

“Oh auntie, how can you be so nervous?”

“I didn’t like your going even when your uncle was here.”

“But, Mrs Morley, there’s nothing to be nervous about,” cried Archie.

“My dear boy—”

“I say, hang it all, Mrs Morley! you might call me a man now,” said Archie, interrupting her speech.

“Yes, my dear, I have plenty of confidence in you; but it’s only you.”

“Why, there will be the Resident’s two chief boatmen, won’t there?—You said there would be two men, didn’t you, Minnie?”

“Yes, of course; and we shouldn’t be above an hour or two, aunt.”

“No, I know, my dear; but—but—”

“There, aunt dear, uncle’s going away so suddenly has upset you, and it does seem selfish of me.—Look here, Archie, it’s very kind of you to offer to take me, but it would be inconsiderate of me to go. I’ll give it up.”

“Oh!” cried the lad, “I am disappointed.”

“Yes, of course you would be,” said Mrs Morley; “and it’s foolish of me to make such a fuss about nothing. There, I am better now. I was a bit flurried by the Doctor going, to be away all night, and leaving us unprotected.”

“And not a British soldier near,” said Archie laughingly.

“Of course; of course,” said Mrs Morley. “You will take great care of her, my dear boy?”

“Take care of her!” cried Archie. “Why, Sir Charles would have me out and shoot me, or wring my neck, if I didn’t. Look here, madam, I’m too fond of Lieutenant Archibald Maine to run any risks. Now are you satisfied?”

“Quite,” said the Doctor’s wife, forcing a laugh.—“There, my dears, be off as soon as you can—but wait till I get a scarf.”

“What are you going to do, auntie?”

“See you down to the boat, of course, my dear.” A very few minutes later the Doctor’s wife was standing on the banks of the river watching the Resident’s handsomely fitted sampan—not his official dragon-boat—being punted by two sturdy men up the glistening waters, Minnie turning from time to time to wave her hand, and lastly her scarf, just as they disappeared.

“It is foolish of me to be so nervous and frightened about crocodiles,” said Mrs Morley, as she turned her straining eyes from where she had been watching the boat. “There isn’t a sign of any of the horrible reptiles; and if it were dangerous those people would not be going up the river in the same direction;” and she remained watching a small naga with about half-a-dozen men plying their oars, sending the slightly built craft steadily up-stream. “Ah, well, I want to see them back. What a lovely evening it is going to be; but how rapidly the night closes in! I almost wish I had gone with them, for it will be very lovely when the moon begins to rise among the trees.”

The Doctor’s wife gave a slight shiver as a faint waft of wind came sweeping over the tops of the forest trees, and she drew her scarf lightly over her head and shoulders as she quickened her steps to return to the bungalow. “It’s not cold,” she said half uneasily, “and yet I shivered. It’s as if the nervous feeling were coming back. Two hours! Well, they will soon slip by.”

Chapter Fourteen.A Great Horror.Those two hours did soon slip away, and after assuring herself by the clock that the time had really fled, Mrs Morley went and stood in the veranda, gazing out in the full expectation of seeing those for whom she waited coming up from the direction of the river.The night was glorious. The nearly full moon was silvering the tops of the trees and casting deep, black shadows on the ground. Here and there in the patches of thick shrubbery that had been planted to take off the harsh formality surrounding the parade, there were faint, twinkling sparks that gave a suggestion of how beautiful the river-sides must be where the lights of the curious insects flashed and died out and lit up again in full force; and for some minutes Mrs Morley stood breathing in the sweet, moist perfume of the many night blooms which floated on the air.“It is very, very beautiful,” she sighed, “but not like home. One tries to get used to it, and does for a time; but there is always that strange feeling of insecurity which will suggest what might happen—we so few, the people here so many, and always looking upon us as infidel intruders who have forced themselves up here to make a home in their very midst. I am too impatient,” she added, with a sigh, as she turned to walk to and fro in the veranda.“I am too impatient,” she repeated. “On such a beautiful night they would easily be tempted to go a little farther up the river than they intended, and they would tell the men to let the boat float gently back with the stream. They have tired the men, perhaps, and have told them to leave the boat to itself. Yes, a lovely night.”She went in, with a sigh, to speak to her two native servants and tell them that they need not stay up; but she found her care unnecessary, for they were already asleep. Then, obeying her next impulse, she woke them, telling one to wait and the other to walk with her as far as the river-side.Here she stood with the woman, watching and trying to pierce the soft, grey mist that hung above the water, before looking round for some one—boatman, or any other native whom she could question. But there was not a soul within sight, and as proof of the lateness of the hour, not a light was to be seen.“Ah!” she cried, with a start, for the woman behind her had suddenly caught her by the wrist with one hand, while she stood with the other outstretched, pointing up the stream. “What is it?” she said. “Can you see the boat?”“No. Listen.”“Ah! You hear them coming?”The woman shook her head violently.“Croc,” she whispered; and her word was followed by a light, wallowing splash.“Ugh!” ejaculated the Doctor’s wife, with a shudder. “Come back. They may have returned by the other path and called at the officers’ quarters. They are waiting for us by now perhaps,” she added to herself.Leading the way back to the bungalow, she hurried in, with straining ears, with the hope that the pair would come out to meet her slowly dying away.“They must have come back directly we went out, learned that we had gone down to the river, and followed us.”Stepping in quickly to the servants’ part of the bungalow, she found the other servant fast asleep, ready to stare at her vacantly and wonderingly as she was shaken into wakefulness. The woman had to be spoken to by her fellow-servant before anything could be got from her; and then it was only to learn that the expected ones had not returned.“Something must have happened,” said the Doctor’s wife, fighting hard now to keep back the horrible forebodings that were troubling her. “Oh! this is not being a woman,” she said. “Come back with me to the river.”The woman hesitated, but Mrs Morley caught her hand, and they hurried back to the river-side, where, before many minutes of excited watching had passed, at least a dozen horribly suggestive splashes had been heard far out upon the flowing stream.“Come back,” she whispered to her companion. “I cannot bear it. What!” she ejaculated, as the woman crept more closely to her and whispered something in her ear. “Those horrid creatures drag people into the river sometimes? Yes, yes; I know—I know. Come back. Perhaps they have come,” she continued, trying to speak firmly; and once more she hurried to the bungalow, to find the other servant again fast asleep.The clock showed that it only wanted a few minutes to midnight, and setting her teeth hard in her determination, the trembling woman gave herself till twelve before starting for the officers’ quarters and the Residency to give the alarm.As she reached the gate she became aware of lights in the distance, evidently going in the direction of the river lower down. Voices, too, floated on the night air, and her spirits rose, for she was conscious of a merry laugh. It could not mean trouble, and she stopped short, watching the lights that seemed now to have stopped by the river’s bank, trying to fit them in somehow with a solution of her trouble. Still all was mental darkness, when she was conscious of a shout or two which made her start, but only to realise directly afterwards as she heard replies, followed by the splash of oars, that some one must be departing in a boat.Then came the murmur of talking as the little party appeared to be not coming towards her but striking off diagonally in the direction of the officers’ quarters and the Residency.A loud cry escaped her. It was answered, and the next minute hurrying feet were approaching her, and a voice exclaimed:“Anything the matter?”“Yes, yes!” panted the agitated woman.“Who is it? Mrs Morley?”“Yes. Help, Captain Down—I—I—” and, trembling and half-breathless, she clung to the speaker as he caught her hands in his.“The Resident’s boat?” she panted.“No, no—Rajah Hamet’s. We have been to see him off.”“Oh, you don’t understand! The Resident’s boat—Mr Maine—”“Ah! What of him?”“Went up the river with my niece.”“Yes, yes—what of them?”“Not come back!”“Oh! Well, well, don’t be alarmed.—Why, you are trembling like a leaf.”“Yes. I can’t help it. It is foolish perhaps. I am terribly alarmed.”“Oh, come, come! I will walk back with you to the bungalow.—You go on, Durham; and you might tell the Resident that I am seeing Mrs Morley home.”“Yes; all right!” came out of the darkness. “Shall I say that the boat’s not come back?”“Oh yes. You might mention it.”“Yes—yes, pray tell him,” added Mrs Morley, as the young officer addressed was continuing his route.“Let’s see,” said the Captain; “the Doctor’s gone off to see to the Rajah, hasn’t he?”“Yes.”“Ah, I see; and you are nervous from being left alone.”“No, no, Captain Down. I am afraid that something has happened to the boat.”“Yes, of course; ladies always are,” said the Captain cheerily, “when they are sitting up waiting. Now, now, be cool. There are scores of things that might have happened in a little expedition like this. First of all, they may have stopped to watch the fire-flies.”“Oh yes, but not so late.”“Well, no; but they may have gone much farther than they intended. It is very tempting on a night like this.”“But I begged Archie Maine to be back in good time.”“Archie Maine is only a boy, and thoughtless; and I dare say Miss Heath would be delighted with the trip; and then there would be night-blooming flowers to look at, the noises of the jungle to listen to, and the splashing of the croc—”“Oh, for pity’s sake, don’t, Captain Down!”“Oh, well, I won’t. Now then, my dear lady, let’s get back to the bungalow, and you give me one of Morley’s best cigars—not those out of the old cedar box, please; one of those will do very well for Archie Maine when he comes—and I will sit down in the veranda and chat with you till the truants return; and then you can scold your niece, after giving Archie the bad cigar. That will be punishment enough for him, for he will be vain enough to try to smoke it, though a thin cigarette makes him poorly, poor fellow! Now then, how do you feel now?”“Oh, better,” said Mrs Morley. “And you don’t think anything could have happened, Captain Down?”“Nothing worse than that they have gone too far and are keeping you up.”“But you don’t think that the boat has been upset?”“Certainly not. Why should I?”“Boats are such dangerous things.”“Yes,” said the Captain quietly—“in the hands of those who don’t know how to use them. But Maine and your niece are not punting, and they have two of Dallas’s best men.”“Yes,” said Mrs Morley, with a sigh of relief, as they reached the gate and made their way into the veranda.“Thank you,” said the Captain, as Mrs Morley took a cigar-box from a shelf and then lit a cedar-wood match at the table lamp. “I wonder how the Doctor’s going on,” he continued, as he lit his cigar.“Ah, I wonder too,” said Mrs Morley.“Hope the poor beggar isn’t much hurt. But Mr Stripes’ claws are rather ugly things. Ah, well, lucky for him that he’s got a Doctor Morley to call into the wilderness. Hullo! Footsteps! What did I tell you? Here they come! In a hurry, too.”But the distant sound of steps was not duplicated. They were those of one only, coming at a rapid rate; and directly after the Resident dashed open the garden gate.“What’s this I hear?” he cried excitedly. “The boat not back?”He listened for a few moments to Mrs Morley’s once more excited words; but he half-interrupted her before she had done, by exclaiming:“Here they come! I have told the Major, and he is turning out the men. For Heaven’s sake, Mrs Morley, try and be calm.”“I am trying, Sir Charles. But my husband absent! How can I look him in the face when he comes back?”“Oh, hush, hush!” whispered the Resident, pressing her hand so hard that she could hardly bear it.“You are taking the very blackest view of the matter. It may be a trifle—one of the poles broken, or they may have ventured too far.”“Don’t talk, pray,” said Mrs Morley. “Never mind me. Do something! Act!”“I am acting, and for the best,” whispered Sir Charles. “I would give my life to save Minnie if she is in danger, but I feel it my duty to try to comfort you.”The next minute he was busy with the officers and the men, hurrying along the river-bank and sending off boats up the stream, in one of which—his own, manned by a dozen men—he was standing with Captain Down and the Major, watching the sides of the river, sometimes plunged in black darkness, at others glistening in the light of the moon, which had now risen far above the trees. But they had not been gone above half-an-hour before news came, to run through the ranks of the searchers left behind, some of whom, on the possibility that those sought might have had an accident with the boat and been compelled to land and fight their way through the jungle, had penetrated some distance along the path nearest to the river-side, and been recalled by one of the officers’ whistles.On hurrying back they had encountered the Sergeant going the rounds, who had to announce that the sentry stationed at the hut above the chief landing-place was missing, and no answer could be obtained to the calls that should have reached his ears had he been anywhere near.It was a night of excitement, misery, and despair, and the short dawn, when it broke, brought not hope but horror and dismay, for all at once, when the morning mist was lying heavily upon the lower reach of the river, the sound of oars was heard approaching the campong, and as it neared the lower landing-place, to which several of the party hurried, it seemed quite a long space of time before the heads of the rowers began to come gradually out of the grey fog; and soon after it was made out to be Rajah Hamet’s naga, or dragon-boat, towing behind it a second boat that had been overturned.The news was passed inward, and this brought the Major to the landing-place, where the Rajah was waiting.“Ah!” cried the old officer, “you have brought news?”The young Rajah bent his head.“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Is this your boat?”“Yes, yes—the Resident’s—Sir Charles’s. Been overturned?”“We found it amongst the trees far down the river. One of my men caught sight of this hanging in a bush;” and he held up a large, thin, gauzy-looking white scarf, torn almost in two.“Ah!” gasped the Major, as he caught at the flimsy wrapper, now partially dry. “And—and—you were going to say something else, sir?”“Yes,” said the young Rajah, with something like a groan. “But tell me, do you know whose was this?”He brought forward from behind him an officer’s forage-cap, about which a torn puggaree clung like a wisp.“Great heavens!” panted the Major. “Oh, my poor, dear boy!—Where did you find this, sir?”“Part of the boat’s bows were crushed in as if by a blow. This cap was held down by one of the splinters.”Just then voices came floating down the river, indicating that some of the party were returning from their search to the upper landing-place; and soon after the Resident’s naga had reached the stage, and the principal occupants sprang out to hear about the missing sentry, and to give no news. The last discovery was whispered to them in broken tones, and as what seemed to be the terrible fate of the small boat’s occupants was told by the Major to Sir Charles, he literally reeled away from where he had been standing, and staggered onwards with extended hands, as if making for the bungalow. But before he had gone many steps he stopped short, to whisper hoarsely, “Who is that?”“I, Sir Charles,” said Captain Down.“Thank you. Take my hand, please. I am giddy, and half-blind. Something seems to have gone wrong. I cannot think. Please help me, and lead me home.—No; stop,” he added. “That poor woman! Some one must tell her. She must know; and I can’t—I can’t be the bearer. Oh, it is too horrible! My fault, too.—Ah! Who is that? You, Down? I thought you had gone. Don’t let me fall. This giddiness again. Yes, I remember now. The Doctor! He was called away to go to the Rajah’s help. Has he returned? Has he—”His lips parted to say more, but his words were inaudible, and at a signal from the Captain four of the men hurried up, to lace their hands into a bearing, and, keeping step, they bore the insensible man to the Residency.It was late in the burning afternoon, after the overturned and much-damaged boat had been lying to dry in the hot sun for hours, and the terrible mishap had been canvassed in every detail, when a sentry passed the word that an elephant was approaching with strangers.The strangers proved to be the Doctor, one of Suleiman’s officials, and the mahout; while as soon as the news reached headquarters, Major Knowle hurried out, bareheaded, to meet his friend, and stood in the shade of one of the great palm-trees, signalling to the mahout to stop.“Morning!” shouted the Doctor cheerily as he drew near. “Patient’s all right, Knowle, and the Frenchman only frightened into a fit. Phew! It is hot, eh? What are you holding up your hand for? Nothing wrong?”The Major was holding on by the ordinary trappings of the howdah, and reaching up as he raised himself on tiptoe, he almost whispered his terrible news, while the florid, erst happy-looking Doctor looked blankly down.

Those two hours did soon slip away, and after assuring herself by the clock that the time had really fled, Mrs Morley went and stood in the veranda, gazing out in the full expectation of seeing those for whom she waited coming up from the direction of the river.

The night was glorious. The nearly full moon was silvering the tops of the trees and casting deep, black shadows on the ground. Here and there in the patches of thick shrubbery that had been planted to take off the harsh formality surrounding the parade, there were faint, twinkling sparks that gave a suggestion of how beautiful the river-sides must be where the lights of the curious insects flashed and died out and lit up again in full force; and for some minutes Mrs Morley stood breathing in the sweet, moist perfume of the many night blooms which floated on the air.

“It is very, very beautiful,” she sighed, “but not like home. One tries to get used to it, and does for a time; but there is always that strange feeling of insecurity which will suggest what might happen—we so few, the people here so many, and always looking upon us as infidel intruders who have forced themselves up here to make a home in their very midst. I am too impatient,” she added, with a sigh, as she turned to walk to and fro in the veranda.

“I am too impatient,” she repeated. “On such a beautiful night they would easily be tempted to go a little farther up the river than they intended, and they would tell the men to let the boat float gently back with the stream. They have tired the men, perhaps, and have told them to leave the boat to itself. Yes, a lovely night.”

She went in, with a sigh, to speak to her two native servants and tell them that they need not stay up; but she found her care unnecessary, for they were already asleep. Then, obeying her next impulse, she woke them, telling one to wait and the other to walk with her as far as the river-side.

Here she stood with the woman, watching and trying to pierce the soft, grey mist that hung above the water, before looking round for some one—boatman, or any other native whom she could question. But there was not a soul within sight, and as proof of the lateness of the hour, not a light was to be seen.

“Ah!” she cried, with a start, for the woman behind her had suddenly caught her by the wrist with one hand, while she stood with the other outstretched, pointing up the stream. “What is it?” she said. “Can you see the boat?”

“No. Listen.”

“Ah! You hear them coming?”

The woman shook her head violently.

“Croc,” she whispered; and her word was followed by a light, wallowing splash.

“Ugh!” ejaculated the Doctor’s wife, with a shudder. “Come back. They may have returned by the other path and called at the officers’ quarters. They are waiting for us by now perhaps,” she added to herself.

Leading the way back to the bungalow, she hurried in, with straining ears, with the hope that the pair would come out to meet her slowly dying away.

“They must have come back directly we went out, learned that we had gone down to the river, and followed us.”

Stepping in quickly to the servants’ part of the bungalow, she found the other servant fast asleep, ready to stare at her vacantly and wonderingly as she was shaken into wakefulness. The woman had to be spoken to by her fellow-servant before anything could be got from her; and then it was only to learn that the expected ones had not returned.

“Something must have happened,” said the Doctor’s wife, fighting hard now to keep back the horrible forebodings that were troubling her. “Oh! this is not being a woman,” she said. “Come back with me to the river.”

The woman hesitated, but Mrs Morley caught her hand, and they hurried back to the river-side, where, before many minutes of excited watching had passed, at least a dozen horribly suggestive splashes had been heard far out upon the flowing stream.

“Come back,” she whispered to her companion. “I cannot bear it. What!” she ejaculated, as the woman crept more closely to her and whispered something in her ear. “Those horrid creatures drag people into the river sometimes? Yes, yes; I know—I know. Come back. Perhaps they have come,” she continued, trying to speak firmly; and once more she hurried to the bungalow, to find the other servant again fast asleep.

The clock showed that it only wanted a few minutes to midnight, and setting her teeth hard in her determination, the trembling woman gave herself till twelve before starting for the officers’ quarters and the Residency to give the alarm.

As she reached the gate she became aware of lights in the distance, evidently going in the direction of the river lower down. Voices, too, floated on the night air, and her spirits rose, for she was conscious of a merry laugh. It could not mean trouble, and she stopped short, watching the lights that seemed now to have stopped by the river’s bank, trying to fit them in somehow with a solution of her trouble. Still all was mental darkness, when she was conscious of a shout or two which made her start, but only to realise directly afterwards as she heard replies, followed by the splash of oars, that some one must be departing in a boat.

Then came the murmur of talking as the little party appeared to be not coming towards her but striking off diagonally in the direction of the officers’ quarters and the Residency.

A loud cry escaped her. It was answered, and the next minute hurrying feet were approaching her, and a voice exclaimed:

“Anything the matter?”

“Yes, yes!” panted the agitated woman.

“Who is it? Mrs Morley?”

“Yes. Help, Captain Down—I—I—” and, trembling and half-breathless, she clung to the speaker as he caught her hands in his.

“The Resident’s boat?” she panted.

“No, no—Rajah Hamet’s. We have been to see him off.”

“Oh, you don’t understand! The Resident’s boat—Mr Maine—”

“Ah! What of him?”

“Went up the river with my niece.”

“Yes, yes—what of them?”

“Not come back!”

“Oh! Well, well, don’t be alarmed.—Why, you are trembling like a leaf.”

“Yes. I can’t help it. It is foolish perhaps. I am terribly alarmed.”

“Oh, come, come! I will walk back with you to the bungalow.—You go on, Durham; and you might tell the Resident that I am seeing Mrs Morley home.”

“Yes; all right!” came out of the darkness. “Shall I say that the boat’s not come back?”

“Oh yes. You might mention it.”

“Yes—yes, pray tell him,” added Mrs Morley, as the young officer addressed was continuing his route.

“Let’s see,” said the Captain; “the Doctor’s gone off to see to the Rajah, hasn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, I see; and you are nervous from being left alone.”

“No, no, Captain Down. I am afraid that something has happened to the boat.”

“Yes, of course; ladies always are,” said the Captain cheerily, “when they are sitting up waiting. Now, now, be cool. There are scores of things that might have happened in a little expedition like this. First of all, they may have stopped to watch the fire-flies.”

“Oh yes, but not so late.”

“Well, no; but they may have gone much farther than they intended. It is very tempting on a night like this.”

“But I begged Archie Maine to be back in good time.”

“Archie Maine is only a boy, and thoughtless; and I dare say Miss Heath would be delighted with the trip; and then there would be night-blooming flowers to look at, the noises of the jungle to listen to, and the splashing of the croc—”

“Oh, for pity’s sake, don’t, Captain Down!”

“Oh, well, I won’t. Now then, my dear lady, let’s get back to the bungalow, and you give me one of Morley’s best cigars—not those out of the old cedar box, please; one of those will do very well for Archie Maine when he comes—and I will sit down in the veranda and chat with you till the truants return; and then you can scold your niece, after giving Archie the bad cigar. That will be punishment enough for him, for he will be vain enough to try to smoke it, though a thin cigarette makes him poorly, poor fellow! Now then, how do you feel now?”

“Oh, better,” said Mrs Morley. “And you don’t think anything could have happened, Captain Down?”

“Nothing worse than that they have gone too far and are keeping you up.”

“But you don’t think that the boat has been upset?”

“Certainly not. Why should I?”

“Boats are such dangerous things.”

“Yes,” said the Captain quietly—“in the hands of those who don’t know how to use them. But Maine and your niece are not punting, and they have two of Dallas’s best men.”

“Yes,” said Mrs Morley, with a sigh of relief, as they reached the gate and made their way into the veranda.

“Thank you,” said the Captain, as Mrs Morley took a cigar-box from a shelf and then lit a cedar-wood match at the table lamp. “I wonder how the Doctor’s going on,” he continued, as he lit his cigar.

“Ah, I wonder too,” said Mrs Morley.

“Hope the poor beggar isn’t much hurt. But Mr Stripes’ claws are rather ugly things. Ah, well, lucky for him that he’s got a Doctor Morley to call into the wilderness. Hullo! Footsteps! What did I tell you? Here they come! In a hurry, too.”

But the distant sound of steps was not duplicated. They were those of one only, coming at a rapid rate; and directly after the Resident dashed open the garden gate.

“What’s this I hear?” he cried excitedly. “The boat not back?”

He listened for a few moments to Mrs Morley’s once more excited words; but he half-interrupted her before she had done, by exclaiming:

“Here they come! I have told the Major, and he is turning out the men. For Heaven’s sake, Mrs Morley, try and be calm.”

“I am trying, Sir Charles. But my husband absent! How can I look him in the face when he comes back?”

“Oh, hush, hush!” whispered the Resident, pressing her hand so hard that she could hardly bear it.

“You are taking the very blackest view of the matter. It may be a trifle—one of the poles broken, or they may have ventured too far.”

“Don’t talk, pray,” said Mrs Morley. “Never mind me. Do something! Act!”

“I am acting, and for the best,” whispered Sir Charles. “I would give my life to save Minnie if she is in danger, but I feel it my duty to try to comfort you.”

The next minute he was busy with the officers and the men, hurrying along the river-bank and sending off boats up the stream, in one of which—his own, manned by a dozen men—he was standing with Captain Down and the Major, watching the sides of the river, sometimes plunged in black darkness, at others glistening in the light of the moon, which had now risen far above the trees. But they had not been gone above half-an-hour before news came, to run through the ranks of the searchers left behind, some of whom, on the possibility that those sought might have had an accident with the boat and been compelled to land and fight their way through the jungle, had penetrated some distance along the path nearest to the river-side, and been recalled by one of the officers’ whistles.

On hurrying back they had encountered the Sergeant going the rounds, who had to announce that the sentry stationed at the hut above the chief landing-place was missing, and no answer could be obtained to the calls that should have reached his ears had he been anywhere near.

It was a night of excitement, misery, and despair, and the short dawn, when it broke, brought not hope but horror and dismay, for all at once, when the morning mist was lying heavily upon the lower reach of the river, the sound of oars was heard approaching the campong, and as it neared the lower landing-place, to which several of the party hurried, it seemed quite a long space of time before the heads of the rowers began to come gradually out of the grey fog; and soon after it was made out to be Rajah Hamet’s naga, or dragon-boat, towing behind it a second boat that had been overturned.

The news was passed inward, and this brought the Major to the landing-place, where the Rajah was waiting.

“Ah!” cried the old officer, “you have brought news?”

The young Rajah bent his head.

“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Is this your boat?”

“Yes, yes—the Resident’s—Sir Charles’s. Been overturned?”

“We found it amongst the trees far down the river. One of my men caught sight of this hanging in a bush;” and he held up a large, thin, gauzy-looking white scarf, torn almost in two.

“Ah!” gasped the Major, as he caught at the flimsy wrapper, now partially dry. “And—and—you were going to say something else, sir?”

“Yes,” said the young Rajah, with something like a groan. “But tell me, do you know whose was this?”

He brought forward from behind him an officer’s forage-cap, about which a torn puggaree clung like a wisp.

“Great heavens!” panted the Major. “Oh, my poor, dear boy!—Where did you find this, sir?”

“Part of the boat’s bows were crushed in as if by a blow. This cap was held down by one of the splinters.”

Just then voices came floating down the river, indicating that some of the party were returning from their search to the upper landing-place; and soon after the Resident’s naga had reached the stage, and the principal occupants sprang out to hear about the missing sentry, and to give no news. The last discovery was whispered to them in broken tones, and as what seemed to be the terrible fate of the small boat’s occupants was told by the Major to Sir Charles, he literally reeled away from where he had been standing, and staggered onwards with extended hands, as if making for the bungalow. But before he had gone many steps he stopped short, to whisper hoarsely, “Who is that?”

“I, Sir Charles,” said Captain Down.

“Thank you. Take my hand, please. I am giddy, and half-blind. Something seems to have gone wrong. I cannot think. Please help me, and lead me home.—No; stop,” he added. “That poor woman! Some one must tell her. She must know; and I can’t—I can’t be the bearer. Oh, it is too horrible! My fault, too.—Ah! Who is that? You, Down? I thought you had gone. Don’t let me fall. This giddiness again. Yes, I remember now. The Doctor! He was called away to go to the Rajah’s help. Has he returned? Has he—”

His lips parted to say more, but his words were inaudible, and at a signal from the Captain four of the men hurried up, to lace their hands into a bearing, and, keeping step, they bore the insensible man to the Residency.

It was late in the burning afternoon, after the overturned and much-damaged boat had been lying to dry in the hot sun for hours, and the terrible mishap had been canvassed in every detail, when a sentry passed the word that an elephant was approaching with strangers.

The strangers proved to be the Doctor, one of Suleiman’s officials, and the mahout; while as soon as the news reached headquarters, Major Knowle hurried out, bareheaded, to meet his friend, and stood in the shade of one of the great palm-trees, signalling to the mahout to stop.

“Morning!” shouted the Doctor cheerily as he drew near. “Patient’s all right, Knowle, and the Frenchman only frightened into a fit. Phew! It is hot, eh? What are you holding up your hand for? Nothing wrong?”

The Major was holding on by the ordinary trappings of the howdah, and reaching up as he raised himself on tiptoe, he almost whispered his terrible news, while the florid, erst happy-looking Doctor looked blankly down.

Chapter Fifteen.Peter’s Sentry-go.Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp, up and down on the regular beat, sometimes in the full silvery moonlight, sometimes in the shade cast by the hut; one minute only the footsteps to break the silence, or the wallowing plash of one of the great reptiles that haunted the river-deeps.“That’s cheerful!” muttered the sentry. “Ain’t so bad, though, as old Joe made it out when he was doing his sentry-go below there, close to the water. My word, how clear it is to-night! I should just like to have a regular old-fashioned sentry-box down there, close to the landing-place, with a good, strong door to it as one could fasten tight, and loopholes in the sides, and plenty of cartridges ready for a night’s shooting. I’d let some of ’em have it! Wouldn’t it make ’em savage, though! They’d come out and turn the box over if it was not well pegged down. Wouldn’t do much good, though, if I hit every time, for lots more of the ugly beggars would come. Mister Archie says they lay eggs. Pretty chickens they must be when they are hatched. Hullo! what boat’s that?”For the plashing of poles reached his ears, and the dark form of a good-sized sampan came round a curve, with its attap awning glistening softly like dead silver in the moonlight.The sentry waited in the shade of the hut till the boat came nearer, and then challenged, when a familiar voice responded:“That you, Peter Pegg?”“Mister Archie, sir! Yes, sir.”“It’s all right. We are going up the river a little way in the moonlight. Beautiful night!”“Yes, sir; lovely, sir. I’d be on the lookout, sir, though.”“What for?”“Them alligator things, sir. I have heard a good many of them knocking about there.”“Oh, they won’t come near us with the men splashing as they pole us along.”The boat passed on, and as the sentry had a glimpse of a white face and the folds of a veil he stood musing and watching till the boat had passed and disappeared.“No,” he thought, “I don’t suppose the brutes will go near them. They soon scuttle off when they hear a splash. Nice to be him, enj’ying hisself with his lady. Wonder who it is. Miss Doctor, perhaps. Nice girl. But he’s only a boy. Wish I was a officer. I used to think it would be all the same for us when I ’listed. My word, how the Sergeant did lay on the butter and jam! And talked about the scarlet, and being like a gentleman out here abroad with the niggers to wait on us—and then it comes to this! Sentry-go for hours in a lonely place like this here, with crocklygaters hanging about to see if you go to sleep to give them a chance to make a grab. Yes, they make a fellow feel sleepy! Just likely, ain’t it?”Peter Pegg’s thoughts seemed to animate him, and for a turn or two he changed his pace from a slow march to double.“Steady, my lad!” he muttered. “There ain’t no hurry;” and he dropped back into the regular pace, and began thinking about the boat and its occupants.“Nice young lady she is; and I suppose that there Sir Charles is going to make a match with her, for she and Mister Archie always seem just like brother and sister. I suppose he ain’t been well. Been precious quiet lately. Can’t have offended him, for he was as jolly as could be last time I saw him. He’s getting more solid-like and growed up. But my word, what fun we have had together sometimes! And what a row there would have been if we had been found out! It wouldn’t have done. But it has cheered me up many a time when I have had the miserables and felt as if I’d like to cut sojering and make for home. It was nice to have a young officer somewheres about your own age ready for a lark. Poor old Mother Smithers, and that brown juice—what do they call it—cutch and gambia?—as dyes things brown. The officers’ clean shirts as was washed in that water—haw, haw, haw!— What’s that?”The listener brought his piece to the ready, and theclick, clickof the lock followed instantly upon a shrill cry which seemed to thrill the sentry along every nerve.“Is it the crocs?” he thought; and then close upon the distant sound of blows and a splash or two came in Archie’s well-known but now excited tones:“Sentry Pegg! Help!”The young private obeyed his first instinct, and that was, instead of firing, to give the alarm, to run down as fast as he could to the water’s edge and plunge in amongst the scattered, overhanging trees, making as well as he could judge for the direction from which the cries had arisen.“Here! Coming! Coming!” he panted, as he rushed in where the trees were thickest, to become, directly after, conscious of a figure starting up from behind a bush that he had just passed, and from which, glittering and flashing, came the sparkle of quite a little cloud of fire-flies.The lad swung himself round as he scented danger, and struck back with the butt of his rifle; but it was only to miss his assailant and expose his head to a blow from the other side—so heavy a stroke from a formidable, club-like weapon that he dropped, with a faint groan, while from the direction of the boat right out towards the middle of the river there was a resumption of the plashing of poles.

Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp, up and down on the regular beat, sometimes in the full silvery moonlight, sometimes in the shade cast by the hut; one minute only the footsteps to break the silence, or the wallowing plash of one of the great reptiles that haunted the river-deeps.

“That’s cheerful!” muttered the sentry. “Ain’t so bad, though, as old Joe made it out when he was doing his sentry-go below there, close to the water. My word, how clear it is to-night! I should just like to have a regular old-fashioned sentry-box down there, close to the landing-place, with a good, strong door to it as one could fasten tight, and loopholes in the sides, and plenty of cartridges ready for a night’s shooting. I’d let some of ’em have it! Wouldn’t it make ’em savage, though! They’d come out and turn the box over if it was not well pegged down. Wouldn’t do much good, though, if I hit every time, for lots more of the ugly beggars would come. Mister Archie says they lay eggs. Pretty chickens they must be when they are hatched. Hullo! what boat’s that?”

For the plashing of poles reached his ears, and the dark form of a good-sized sampan came round a curve, with its attap awning glistening softly like dead silver in the moonlight.

The sentry waited in the shade of the hut till the boat came nearer, and then challenged, when a familiar voice responded:

“That you, Peter Pegg?”

“Mister Archie, sir! Yes, sir.”

“It’s all right. We are going up the river a little way in the moonlight. Beautiful night!”

“Yes, sir; lovely, sir. I’d be on the lookout, sir, though.”

“What for?”

“Them alligator things, sir. I have heard a good many of them knocking about there.”

“Oh, they won’t come near us with the men splashing as they pole us along.”

The boat passed on, and as the sentry had a glimpse of a white face and the folds of a veil he stood musing and watching till the boat had passed and disappeared.

“No,” he thought, “I don’t suppose the brutes will go near them. They soon scuttle off when they hear a splash. Nice to be him, enj’ying hisself with his lady. Wonder who it is. Miss Doctor, perhaps. Nice girl. But he’s only a boy. Wish I was a officer. I used to think it would be all the same for us when I ’listed. My word, how the Sergeant did lay on the butter and jam! And talked about the scarlet, and being like a gentleman out here abroad with the niggers to wait on us—and then it comes to this! Sentry-go for hours in a lonely place like this here, with crocklygaters hanging about to see if you go to sleep to give them a chance to make a grab. Yes, they make a fellow feel sleepy! Just likely, ain’t it?”

Peter Pegg’s thoughts seemed to animate him, and for a turn or two he changed his pace from a slow march to double.

“Steady, my lad!” he muttered. “There ain’t no hurry;” and he dropped back into the regular pace, and began thinking about the boat and its occupants.

“Nice young lady she is; and I suppose that there Sir Charles is going to make a match with her, for she and Mister Archie always seem just like brother and sister. I suppose he ain’t been well. Been precious quiet lately. Can’t have offended him, for he was as jolly as could be last time I saw him. He’s getting more solid-like and growed up. But my word, what fun we have had together sometimes! And what a row there would have been if we had been found out! It wouldn’t have done. But it has cheered me up many a time when I have had the miserables and felt as if I’d like to cut sojering and make for home. It was nice to have a young officer somewheres about your own age ready for a lark. Poor old Mother Smithers, and that brown juice—what do they call it—cutch and gambia?—as dyes things brown. The officers’ clean shirts as was washed in that water—haw, haw, haw!— What’s that?”

The listener brought his piece to the ready, and theclick, clickof the lock followed instantly upon a shrill cry which seemed to thrill the sentry along every nerve.

“Is it the crocs?” he thought; and then close upon the distant sound of blows and a splash or two came in Archie’s well-known but now excited tones:

“Sentry Pegg! Help!”

The young private obeyed his first instinct, and that was, instead of firing, to give the alarm, to run down as fast as he could to the water’s edge and plunge in amongst the scattered, overhanging trees, making as well as he could judge for the direction from which the cries had arisen.

“Here! Coming! Coming!” he panted, as he rushed in where the trees were thickest, to become, directly after, conscious of a figure starting up from behind a bush that he had just passed, and from which, glittering and flashing, came the sparkle of quite a little cloud of fire-flies.

The lad swung himself round as he scented danger, and struck back with the butt of his rifle; but it was only to miss his assailant and expose his head to a blow from the other side—so heavy a stroke from a formidable, club-like weapon that he dropped, with a faint groan, while from the direction of the boat right out towards the middle of the river there was a resumption of the plashing of poles.

Chapter Sixteen.A strange Fever.It was to Archie Maine like a bad attack of the fever from which he had suffered when he first went up-country in the gunboat from Singapore. There was that horrible beating and throbbing in his head, only intensely more confusing than it had been then; and sometimes, when he could think and everything did not seem mentally upside-down, he was being puzzled by two questions. One was, “Is it jungle fever?” the other, “Is it the throbbing and beating of the gunboat engines?” And this latter he favoured the more because he felt convinced that the heat, the burning, scorching heat, in his head must be because they had put him in a berth close by the furnace fires.Throb, throb—burn, burn—and then all nothingness for long enough. He could not move; he could not speak; he could not think; only hour after hour in the midst of the throbbing pain he felt dried up, choking with thirst, and always fighting hard to get back the power to think.What did it all mean? Where was he? There was the throbbing as of the engines, and the heat, but somehow he felt that he could not be on the gunboat. For once in a way there was a roar as of wild beasts; then it was not the roar of wild beasts, for it seemed to be the blast of a bugle, out of tune, harsh, and blown by some horrible giant, so big, so vast, so confusing that, as he was trying to think what it could be and why, everything was all confusion again. If he could only think! If he could only make it out, why it was, and what it was! And he was in a hurry to do this. It seemed as if he was struggling with all his might to be able to think, before everything was shut down again.He did not know what was going to be shut down, or what there was to be shut down. He did not understand; but he could feel the awful heat, the heavy, burning, throbbing pain, and with it—there was nothing. And what was nothing? Nothing but darkness and the great question: why?—which grew and grew and grew till it became bigger and bigger and resolved itself into something going round and round; and that something seemed to be why he could not think.How long this went on Archie did not know; but after a time in the darkness there seemed to come a faint dawning like a feeble ray of light, which suggested that he must be at home in England on a frightfully hot day, lying down on one of the benches in the Lion House at the Zoo. For there was that tremendous giant’s roar or trumpeting sound, and this must, he knew, be one of the savage beasts, and had something to do with his having suddenly dropped to sleep and being wakened by the bellowing sound.Then more darkness—silence—the ever-increasing confusion and whir, and nothingness, till some time or other there was a fresh coming of the dawn, in the midst of which he felt something that seemed wonderfully cool and moist laid upon his head, and a voice that seemed to come from miles away whispered:“Poor old chap!”Then all was dark again, and he seemed to be dreaming of the fever and the doctor that was talking to him and telling him that there were six of the men just as bad as he was, and that he was to takethat. He could think now, for he distinctly heard him say:“Tip it up. It will do you good.”And somehow the engines seemed to have been stopped, and he felt as if he was being lifted on to some one’s arm away from the tremendous heat of the engine fires, and he knew it was the Doctor—good old Morley!—who was holding a very hard wooden cup to his lips for him to drink the medicine. No, it was not nasty; it was beautifully cool and good. He felt that the Doctor had put in so much water that he could not taste the physic; and he drank on and on, every drop seeming to make it easier at last to think. And then the cup was being taken from his lips, and he tried to raise his hand to catch it and hold it so that he might drink more; but his arm fell as if nerveless, and he uttered a deep groan.“Oh, come!” rose to his ears now, as if from a long way off. “That’s something! Ain’t going to die this time.”“Not going to die this time,” some one whispered, as if it were breathed with a hot breath upon his lips; and then he lay thinking in a very feeble way, and feeling the while so tired, as a great longing came over him to go to sleep. It seemed like hours before that longing was fulfilled; and then he woke up not knowing why or wherefore, or grasping anything but that it was dark, black dark; and then he felt, with a strange sense of agony, that all his trouble was returning, for the trumpeting roar thundered through his brain, and he lay perfectly still as the deep sound ceased, ending with a peculiar kind of snort and a squeal, feeling that there was no pain, and beginning to wonder why.Time passed again—how long a time it was beyond him to grasp—but there was that peculiar trumpeting roar once more, and somehow it did not trouble him so much. The fancy that he was in the Lion House had faded away, and he became conscious of the Doctor passing his arm under his neck and raising him, while the wooden cup was being held to his lips—cool, sweet, delicious—it was one great joy to feel the soft draught running over his parched tongue and down his throat.Then he started, and he felt some of the contents of the cup trickle down his chin, for there was a shrill trumpeting noise again as the desire to exert himself came, and he exclaimed:“What’s that?”It was only in a whisper, but the Doctor—no, it was not the Doctor; it was some one whose voice he knew—said excitedly:“Helephants.” And then, “I say, Mister Archie, sir, you’re a-coming round!”That was too much for him. He wanted to ask what it meant—why it was Peter Pegg who had been holding up his head, and not the Doctor—but he could not form the words for the deep, heavy sleepiness which came over him; and then all was darkness once more, mental and real.Long enough after, Archie Maine found himself thinking again, and wondering where he was and why it was so dark; but he could make out nothing, till he gradually began to feel about him, slowly, cautiously, as if in dread of something about to happen, for the sensation was horrible of being nowhere and in danger of falling should he move. Then there was a sudden feeling of consciousness, for he touched a hot hand, and a familiar voice said:“’Wake, sir? Like a drink?”“Yes. That you, Pete?”“Me it is, sir. Lie still, and I will give you a cocoa-nut-shellful of water, and—and— Oh my! Oh my! Oh Lor’! I can’t help it!”And Archie lay thinking clearly enough now, and wondering why it was that the big fellow who had spoken crouched close by him quivering, and the hand that had grasped his roughly was shaking violently, as he lay there blubbering and sobbing with all his might.“What’s the matter?” whispered Archie, in the midst of his wonder.“Oh, it’s only me, sir,” cried the lad in a choking voice. “I couldn’t help it. It would ha’ been just the same if I’d been on parade. It would come. It’s been ready to bust out all this time. I thought you was going to die, sir—I thought you was going to die!”“Die, Pete! No! What for?”“Don’t you know, sir?”“No–o,” said Archie wonderingly.“Here, stop a minute; let me give you some water.”And in the darkness Archie lay listening to the pleasant, musical, trickling sound of falling water; while directly after, as he felt the private’s hand passed under his neck, he made an effort to rise, and fell a-wondering again, for he could not stir.But the next minute there was a fancied feeling of returning strength as he swallowed the cool draught with avidity, drinking till the desire came upon him to sink back with a deep sigh of content, and he felt his companion’s arm withdrawn.“Go to sleep after that, can’t you?” whispered the private.“No; I want to know what it all means.”“Hadn’t you better go to sleep, sir?”“No!” cried Archie, in a voice so full of the agony of desire that Peter spoke out excitedly:“Well, we are prisoners, sir.”“Prisoners! How? Why?”“I d’know, sir.”“You don’t know!” panted Archie feebly. “Oh, you are trying to keep it back!”“That I ain’t, sir. I’ll tell you what I do know. Somebody’s took us prisoners—some of them Malay chaps. I think it must be that Rajah Hamet’s men, as they says are our enemies.”“No, no; he’s our friend.”“Then it must be t’other one, sir. You remember when you come by in the boat that moonlight night?”“Boat! What moonlight night?”“Oh, Lor’ ha’ mussy!” muttered Peter. “He can’t be fit to talk.”“What’s that you are saying to yourself? Why don’t you speak?”“Don’t you remember hailing me, sir, when I was on sentry-go?”“No.”“Nor me telling you to mind the crocs didn’t try to come aboard your boat?”“No. What are you talking about?”“Oh, my word!” sighed Peter. “Here’s a pretty go! Talk about a poor fellow being off his chump!” Then aloud, as he felt the lad’s hand feebly feeling for his, “It was like this ’ere, sir. You must have got into some row with a boatful of the niggers, and they knocked you over the head.”“Knocked me over the head?” said Archie dreamily. “No, I don’t remember. Here, give me some more water.”Peter Pegg hurriedly filled the cup—half a cocoa-nut shell—and Archie drank a mouthful and pushed it away.“Let me lie down again,” he said.—“Now go on. Knocked me over the head?” he said very slowly and thoughtfully, as if weighing his words. “Did you know that?”“Yes, sir.”“You said you were on sentry?”“That’s right, sir.”“Then why didn’t you come and help me?”“I was coming, sir, bull roosh, when just as I was running along the river-bank, wondering how I was to swim out to you among them crocodiles, some one popped out from the bushes and fetched me down with an awful crack on the pan.”“Struck you down?”“Yes, sir. Hit me crool. There’s a lump on the top now as big as your fist. Regularly knocked me silly. Just as they must have served you—knocked every bit of sense out of me. There warn’t much in, as old Tipsy says, but I didn’t know no more till I found myself here, feeling sick as a dog, and not able to move, for I was lying awkward-like on my back, with some of them thin rotan canes tied round my arms and legs so tight that it was only at times I knowed I had any arms and legs at all.”“Poor fellow!” said Archie pityingly.“Yes, I just have been a poor fellow, sir—poor creature, as they called them up in my part of the country. Why, I have been quite mazed-like. That topper I got seemed to do for me altogether; and when I come-to, here I was lying in this place, not knowing where I was, and, like you, sir, I couldn’t make out what it meant.”“And in the darkness, too,” said Archie, “just like this?”“Like which, sir? Why, it ain’t dark now!”“Black darkness,” said Archie.The young private whistled softly and said nothing, but shook his head and thought.“But you know what place it is, don’t you, Pete?”“Well, I suppose it’s part of one of the Rajah’s roosts; but, as I tell you, my head’s felt so muddled, and just as if some of the works had been knocked loose, that even now I don’t seem to be able to tell t’other from which. Well, I am getting it clearer now, and of course it must be at Mr Prince Suleiman’s. Why, to be sure it must; and if my wheels inside had been going as they should, I should have thought it out at once. It must be at the Rajah’s place, because of the helephants as you ’eerd now and then. They must have a sort of stable close by here. And then—why, of course—I’m just as ’fused-like as you are, sir—that French count chap came in to see us the other day, and talked to me.”“He came here?” said Archie in his slow, dreamy way.“Yes, sir; that he did.”“But I want to know,” said Archie, “why we were attacked like this and I was so hurt. There seems to have been no cause or reason for it.”“Well, I d’know, sir. I can’t think much more than you can. Maybe we shall see it clearly as we gets better; but it looks to me as if it’s his doing, out of spite, like, for our interfering with him when he came that night and Joe Smithers arrested him and gave the alarm.”“Perhaps so,” said Archie. “My head’s going wrong again. I can’t think.”“Then you take my advice, sir: don’t you try. Try and eat a bit, for it’s five days since you have had a bite, counting the night we was took.”“Five days!” said Archie.“That’s right, sir. Think you could eat one of these fruits—I don’t know what you call them—melons like?”“No,” said Archie, with a shudder.“Well, I don’t wonder, sir. I couldn’t at first. They brought in a lot of bananas with the water, but I couldn’t touch ’em at first. When that Frenchman came, though, and saw that I hadn’t eaten anything, he turned rusty, and said I was trying to starve myself to death, and that it wouldn’t do, because I must remember that I was a horstrich now, and I wasn’t to play no tricks like that.”“Said you were an ostrich?”“Yes, sir; that’s right. I don’t know why, and I thought perhaps I hadn’t heard him rightly, being so muddled-like. But I’m sure now that’s what he said. Perhaps he said it because he thought I was a long-legged one and meant to run away; and I should have been about doing so before now if there hadn’t been reasons.”“What reasons, Pete?”“Why, you, sir. You don’t suppose I was going to cut and leave my mate in such a hole as this?”“Ostrich?” said Archie dreamily. “What could he mean by that? Oh—prisoners! He called you a hostage, and we are to be kept as hostages for some reason connected with something that’s going on.”“Ah! that’s right, sir.”As the young private sat on the palm-leaf-covered floor of the wooden building, gazing at his companion in misfortune, and thinking of how changed he looked, Archie slowly closed his eyes and appeared to be asleep, though he was now trying to make up for lost time, and thinking deeply.“Wonder what’s the matter with his eyes,” mused the young private. “He can’t see, or else he wouldn’t keep on talking about its being dark.”Suddenly Archie unclosed his eyes and said:“Are your legs and wrists better now?”“It’s my head that was the worst, sir,” was the reply.“But you said that your legs and wrists were so cruelly tied up that the canes cut into your flesh.”“Oh yes, sir; that was at first. But when that Frenchie came in he told the Malay chaps to untie ’em, so that I could wait upon you—and precious glad I was.”“But how did you manage to see to give me the water?”“I couldn’t in the night, sir; but I can now.—It’s no use to tell the poor chap that it’s quite light, for he’s all puzzled-like yet,” thought the private. Then aloud, “I’d just go to sleep a bit now, sir, if I was you.”“What for?”“Rest your head, sir. You will feel a deal better when you wake again, and perhaps see a bit clearer.”“Perhaps you are right, Pete,” said Archie, with a sigh; “but I am better now. Most of the pain seems to be gone.”“Good luck to you, sir! I wish mine had, for there are times when I seem as if I could not think straight.”Archie made no reply, and as the young private watched him he saw that the poor fellow’s eyes were once more closed; and the lad half lay on the crisp leaves, which rustled loudly at every movement, and mused on their position.“One would expect,” he said to himself, “that at any minute a company of our swaddies would be here to fetch us out of this. At the same time, one ought to be ready to help one’s self. Can’t do anything, of course, with Mister Archie like this; but I have got my ideas about doing something some night if I can get a chance.—Oh, there you are, my beauties! I keep on hearing you, and you set me thinking. Wonder whether I could do it if I tried. I must wait till he comes round a bit more, and then I mean to try. Wonder whether they set sentries over us. Most likely; but if they do they will have to be dodged.”There was a rumbling noise, which came from one of the elephants stabled near, and Peter Pegg shook his head slowly as if he were imitating the customary habit of a tethered elephant, and in imagination the private seemed to see one of the leg-chained beasts softly bowing its head up and down, and slowly from side to side, swinging it as if it were on springs.“If I asked that chap who brings the water to let me see the helephants he would see through me, so I won’t do it—make him ’spicious; and he wouldn’t understand me if I did. His is an awful foolish lingo. Might perhaps get outside the door or window some night and have a look for them in the dark. Ah, there’s no knowing what I might do when he gets better.”Private Pegg started violently, for all at once Archie started up excitedly, and sat with widely opened eyes, gazing wildly straight before him, his hands extended, and trembling violently; while, as his fellow-prisoner leaned forward and caught him by the arm to try and soothe him, believing him to be in pain, he snatched his hand away, and in a piteous cry uttered the one word:“Minnie!”Peter Pegg waited for a few moments, half-stunned by this new form of trouble, and offered the first palliative that occurred to him.“Have some more water, Mister Archie,” he said huskily.“No, no! Don’t you see? Why didn’t you tell me before?”“Tell you what before, sir?”“About Miss Heath.”“About Miss Doctor, sir? It was her, then, as was with you in the boat?”“Yes, yes! Why didn’t you remind me?”“Never thought about it, sir. I never—my word!—I—”“Yes, yes; I see it all now! It has all come back. That blindness and misery has cleared off like a veil. Man, man! when those wretches attacked me she was with me in the boat; and we stop here, helpless and prisoners, while she— Oh for health and strength! Pegg, there’s not a moment to be lost! We must escape somehow, and get back to camp. Her poor aunt! What must she think!”

It was to Archie Maine like a bad attack of the fever from which he had suffered when he first went up-country in the gunboat from Singapore. There was that horrible beating and throbbing in his head, only intensely more confusing than it had been then; and sometimes, when he could think and everything did not seem mentally upside-down, he was being puzzled by two questions. One was, “Is it jungle fever?” the other, “Is it the throbbing and beating of the gunboat engines?” And this latter he favoured the more because he felt convinced that the heat, the burning, scorching heat, in his head must be because they had put him in a berth close by the furnace fires.

Throb, throb—burn, burn—and then all nothingness for long enough. He could not move; he could not speak; he could not think; only hour after hour in the midst of the throbbing pain he felt dried up, choking with thirst, and always fighting hard to get back the power to think.

What did it all mean? Where was he? There was the throbbing as of the engines, and the heat, but somehow he felt that he could not be on the gunboat. For once in a way there was a roar as of wild beasts; then it was not the roar of wild beasts, for it seemed to be the blast of a bugle, out of tune, harsh, and blown by some horrible giant, so big, so vast, so confusing that, as he was trying to think what it could be and why, everything was all confusion again. If he could only think! If he could only make it out, why it was, and what it was! And he was in a hurry to do this. It seemed as if he was struggling with all his might to be able to think, before everything was shut down again.

He did not know what was going to be shut down, or what there was to be shut down. He did not understand; but he could feel the awful heat, the heavy, burning, throbbing pain, and with it—there was nothing. And what was nothing? Nothing but darkness and the great question: why?—which grew and grew and grew till it became bigger and bigger and resolved itself into something going round and round; and that something seemed to be why he could not think.

How long this went on Archie did not know; but after a time in the darkness there seemed to come a faint dawning like a feeble ray of light, which suggested that he must be at home in England on a frightfully hot day, lying down on one of the benches in the Lion House at the Zoo. For there was that tremendous giant’s roar or trumpeting sound, and this must, he knew, be one of the savage beasts, and had something to do with his having suddenly dropped to sleep and being wakened by the bellowing sound.

Then more darkness—silence—the ever-increasing confusion and whir, and nothingness, till some time or other there was a fresh coming of the dawn, in the midst of which he felt something that seemed wonderfully cool and moist laid upon his head, and a voice that seemed to come from miles away whispered:

“Poor old chap!”

Then all was dark again, and he seemed to be dreaming of the fever and the doctor that was talking to him and telling him that there were six of the men just as bad as he was, and that he was to takethat. He could think now, for he distinctly heard him say:

“Tip it up. It will do you good.”

And somehow the engines seemed to have been stopped, and he felt as if he was being lifted on to some one’s arm away from the tremendous heat of the engine fires, and he knew it was the Doctor—good old Morley!—who was holding a very hard wooden cup to his lips for him to drink the medicine. No, it was not nasty; it was beautifully cool and good. He felt that the Doctor had put in so much water that he could not taste the physic; and he drank on and on, every drop seeming to make it easier at last to think. And then the cup was being taken from his lips, and he tried to raise his hand to catch it and hold it so that he might drink more; but his arm fell as if nerveless, and he uttered a deep groan.

“Oh, come!” rose to his ears now, as if from a long way off. “That’s something! Ain’t going to die this time.”

“Not going to die this time,” some one whispered, as if it were breathed with a hot breath upon his lips; and then he lay thinking in a very feeble way, and feeling the while so tired, as a great longing came over him to go to sleep. It seemed like hours before that longing was fulfilled; and then he woke up not knowing why or wherefore, or grasping anything but that it was dark, black dark; and then he felt, with a strange sense of agony, that all his trouble was returning, for the trumpeting roar thundered through his brain, and he lay perfectly still as the deep sound ceased, ending with a peculiar kind of snort and a squeal, feeling that there was no pain, and beginning to wonder why.

Time passed again—how long a time it was beyond him to grasp—but there was that peculiar trumpeting roar once more, and somehow it did not trouble him so much. The fancy that he was in the Lion House had faded away, and he became conscious of the Doctor passing his arm under his neck and raising him, while the wooden cup was being held to his lips—cool, sweet, delicious—it was one great joy to feel the soft draught running over his parched tongue and down his throat.

Then he started, and he felt some of the contents of the cup trickle down his chin, for there was a shrill trumpeting noise again as the desire to exert himself came, and he exclaimed:

“What’s that?”

It was only in a whisper, but the Doctor—no, it was not the Doctor; it was some one whose voice he knew—said excitedly:

“Helephants.” And then, “I say, Mister Archie, sir, you’re a-coming round!”

That was too much for him. He wanted to ask what it meant—why it was Peter Pegg who had been holding up his head, and not the Doctor—but he could not form the words for the deep, heavy sleepiness which came over him; and then all was darkness once more, mental and real.

Long enough after, Archie Maine found himself thinking again, and wondering where he was and why it was so dark; but he could make out nothing, till he gradually began to feel about him, slowly, cautiously, as if in dread of something about to happen, for the sensation was horrible of being nowhere and in danger of falling should he move. Then there was a sudden feeling of consciousness, for he touched a hot hand, and a familiar voice said:

“’Wake, sir? Like a drink?”

“Yes. That you, Pete?”

“Me it is, sir. Lie still, and I will give you a cocoa-nut-shellful of water, and—and— Oh my! Oh my! Oh Lor’! I can’t help it!”

And Archie lay thinking clearly enough now, and wondering why it was that the big fellow who had spoken crouched close by him quivering, and the hand that had grasped his roughly was shaking violently, as he lay there blubbering and sobbing with all his might.

“What’s the matter?” whispered Archie, in the midst of his wonder.

“Oh, it’s only me, sir,” cried the lad in a choking voice. “I couldn’t help it. It would ha’ been just the same if I’d been on parade. It would come. It’s been ready to bust out all this time. I thought you was going to die, sir—I thought you was going to die!”

“Die, Pete! No! What for?”

“Don’t you know, sir?”

“No–o,” said Archie wonderingly.

“Here, stop a minute; let me give you some water.”

And in the darkness Archie lay listening to the pleasant, musical, trickling sound of falling water; while directly after, as he felt the private’s hand passed under his neck, he made an effort to rise, and fell a-wondering again, for he could not stir.

But the next minute there was a fancied feeling of returning strength as he swallowed the cool draught with avidity, drinking till the desire came upon him to sink back with a deep sigh of content, and he felt his companion’s arm withdrawn.

“Go to sleep after that, can’t you?” whispered the private.

“No; I want to know what it all means.”

“Hadn’t you better go to sleep, sir?”

“No!” cried Archie, in a voice so full of the agony of desire that Peter spoke out excitedly:

“Well, we are prisoners, sir.”

“Prisoners! How? Why?”

“I d’know, sir.”

“You don’t know!” panted Archie feebly. “Oh, you are trying to keep it back!”

“That I ain’t, sir. I’ll tell you what I do know. Somebody’s took us prisoners—some of them Malay chaps. I think it must be that Rajah Hamet’s men, as they says are our enemies.”

“No, no; he’s our friend.”

“Then it must be t’other one, sir. You remember when you come by in the boat that moonlight night?”

“Boat! What moonlight night?”

“Oh, Lor’ ha’ mussy!” muttered Peter. “He can’t be fit to talk.”

“What’s that you are saying to yourself? Why don’t you speak?”

“Don’t you remember hailing me, sir, when I was on sentry-go?”

“No.”

“Nor me telling you to mind the crocs didn’t try to come aboard your boat?”

“No. What are you talking about?”

“Oh, my word!” sighed Peter. “Here’s a pretty go! Talk about a poor fellow being off his chump!” Then aloud, as he felt the lad’s hand feebly feeling for his, “It was like this ’ere, sir. You must have got into some row with a boatful of the niggers, and they knocked you over the head.”

“Knocked me over the head?” said Archie dreamily. “No, I don’t remember. Here, give me some more water.”

Peter Pegg hurriedly filled the cup—half a cocoa-nut shell—and Archie drank a mouthful and pushed it away.

“Let me lie down again,” he said.—“Now go on. Knocked me over the head?” he said very slowly and thoughtfully, as if weighing his words. “Did you know that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You said you were on sentry?”

“That’s right, sir.”

“Then why didn’t you come and help me?”

“I was coming, sir, bull roosh, when just as I was running along the river-bank, wondering how I was to swim out to you among them crocodiles, some one popped out from the bushes and fetched me down with an awful crack on the pan.”

“Struck you down?”

“Yes, sir. Hit me crool. There’s a lump on the top now as big as your fist. Regularly knocked me silly. Just as they must have served you—knocked every bit of sense out of me. There warn’t much in, as old Tipsy says, but I didn’t know no more till I found myself here, feeling sick as a dog, and not able to move, for I was lying awkward-like on my back, with some of them thin rotan canes tied round my arms and legs so tight that it was only at times I knowed I had any arms and legs at all.”

“Poor fellow!” said Archie pityingly.

“Yes, I just have been a poor fellow, sir—poor creature, as they called them up in my part of the country. Why, I have been quite mazed-like. That topper I got seemed to do for me altogether; and when I come-to, here I was lying in this place, not knowing where I was, and, like you, sir, I couldn’t make out what it meant.”

“And in the darkness, too,” said Archie, “just like this?”

“Like which, sir? Why, it ain’t dark now!”

“Black darkness,” said Archie.

The young private whistled softly and said nothing, but shook his head and thought.

“But you know what place it is, don’t you, Pete?”

“Well, I suppose it’s part of one of the Rajah’s roosts; but, as I tell you, my head’s felt so muddled, and just as if some of the works had been knocked loose, that even now I don’t seem to be able to tell t’other from which. Well, I am getting it clearer now, and of course it must be at Mr Prince Suleiman’s. Why, to be sure it must; and if my wheels inside had been going as they should, I should have thought it out at once. It must be at the Rajah’s place, because of the helephants as you ’eerd now and then. They must have a sort of stable close by here. And then—why, of course—I’m just as ’fused-like as you are, sir—that French count chap came in to see us the other day, and talked to me.”

“He came here?” said Archie in his slow, dreamy way.

“Yes, sir; that he did.”

“But I want to know,” said Archie, “why we were attacked like this and I was so hurt. There seems to have been no cause or reason for it.”

“Well, I d’know, sir. I can’t think much more than you can. Maybe we shall see it clearly as we gets better; but it looks to me as if it’s his doing, out of spite, like, for our interfering with him when he came that night and Joe Smithers arrested him and gave the alarm.”

“Perhaps so,” said Archie. “My head’s going wrong again. I can’t think.”

“Then you take my advice, sir: don’t you try. Try and eat a bit, for it’s five days since you have had a bite, counting the night we was took.”

“Five days!” said Archie.

“That’s right, sir. Think you could eat one of these fruits—I don’t know what you call them—melons like?”

“No,” said Archie, with a shudder.

“Well, I don’t wonder, sir. I couldn’t at first. They brought in a lot of bananas with the water, but I couldn’t touch ’em at first. When that Frenchman came, though, and saw that I hadn’t eaten anything, he turned rusty, and said I was trying to starve myself to death, and that it wouldn’t do, because I must remember that I was a horstrich now, and I wasn’t to play no tricks like that.”

“Said you were an ostrich?”

“Yes, sir; that’s right. I don’t know why, and I thought perhaps I hadn’t heard him rightly, being so muddled-like. But I’m sure now that’s what he said. Perhaps he said it because he thought I was a long-legged one and meant to run away; and I should have been about doing so before now if there hadn’t been reasons.”

“What reasons, Pete?”

“Why, you, sir. You don’t suppose I was going to cut and leave my mate in such a hole as this?”

“Ostrich?” said Archie dreamily. “What could he mean by that? Oh—prisoners! He called you a hostage, and we are to be kept as hostages for some reason connected with something that’s going on.”

“Ah! that’s right, sir.”

As the young private sat on the palm-leaf-covered floor of the wooden building, gazing at his companion in misfortune, and thinking of how changed he looked, Archie slowly closed his eyes and appeared to be asleep, though he was now trying to make up for lost time, and thinking deeply.

“Wonder what’s the matter with his eyes,” mused the young private. “He can’t see, or else he wouldn’t keep on talking about its being dark.”

Suddenly Archie unclosed his eyes and said:

“Are your legs and wrists better now?”

“It’s my head that was the worst, sir,” was the reply.

“But you said that your legs and wrists were so cruelly tied up that the canes cut into your flesh.”

“Oh yes, sir; that was at first. But when that Frenchie came in he told the Malay chaps to untie ’em, so that I could wait upon you—and precious glad I was.”

“But how did you manage to see to give me the water?”

“I couldn’t in the night, sir; but I can now.—It’s no use to tell the poor chap that it’s quite light, for he’s all puzzled-like yet,” thought the private. Then aloud, “I’d just go to sleep a bit now, sir, if I was you.”

“What for?”

“Rest your head, sir. You will feel a deal better when you wake again, and perhaps see a bit clearer.”

“Perhaps you are right, Pete,” said Archie, with a sigh; “but I am better now. Most of the pain seems to be gone.”

“Good luck to you, sir! I wish mine had, for there are times when I seem as if I could not think straight.”

Archie made no reply, and as the young private watched him he saw that the poor fellow’s eyes were once more closed; and the lad half lay on the crisp leaves, which rustled loudly at every movement, and mused on their position.

“One would expect,” he said to himself, “that at any minute a company of our swaddies would be here to fetch us out of this. At the same time, one ought to be ready to help one’s self. Can’t do anything, of course, with Mister Archie like this; but I have got my ideas about doing something some night if I can get a chance.—Oh, there you are, my beauties! I keep on hearing you, and you set me thinking. Wonder whether I could do it if I tried. I must wait till he comes round a bit more, and then I mean to try. Wonder whether they set sentries over us. Most likely; but if they do they will have to be dodged.”

There was a rumbling noise, which came from one of the elephants stabled near, and Peter Pegg shook his head slowly as if he were imitating the customary habit of a tethered elephant, and in imagination the private seemed to see one of the leg-chained beasts softly bowing its head up and down, and slowly from side to side, swinging it as if it were on springs.

“If I asked that chap who brings the water to let me see the helephants he would see through me, so I won’t do it—make him ’spicious; and he wouldn’t understand me if I did. His is an awful foolish lingo. Might perhaps get outside the door or window some night and have a look for them in the dark. Ah, there’s no knowing what I might do when he gets better.”

Private Pegg started violently, for all at once Archie started up excitedly, and sat with widely opened eyes, gazing wildly straight before him, his hands extended, and trembling violently; while, as his fellow-prisoner leaned forward and caught him by the arm to try and soothe him, believing him to be in pain, he snatched his hand away, and in a piteous cry uttered the one word:

“Minnie!”

Peter Pegg waited for a few moments, half-stunned by this new form of trouble, and offered the first palliative that occurred to him.

“Have some more water, Mister Archie,” he said huskily.

“No, no! Don’t you see? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Tell you what before, sir?”

“About Miss Heath.”

“About Miss Doctor, sir? It was her, then, as was with you in the boat?”

“Yes, yes! Why didn’t you remind me?”

“Never thought about it, sir. I never—my word!—I—”

“Yes, yes; I see it all now! It has all come back. That blindness and misery has cleared off like a veil. Man, man! when those wretches attacked me she was with me in the boat; and we stop here, helpless and prisoners, while she— Oh for health and strength! Pegg, there’s not a moment to be lost! We must escape somehow, and get back to camp. Her poor aunt! What must she think!”

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