As Ali lay back there with closed eyes, it seemed impossible that he
could have slept and dreamed all this, but it was plain enough now. He
had but to unclose his eyes and see the Malays in the outer room, and
listen to the twittering of the small birds, the screams of the parrots,
and the cry uttered from time to time by some monkey.
Where was his manhood? he asked himself--where his keen desire to escape
and help his friends? He felt half-maddened to think that he should
have slept and neglected them, not sparing himself for a moment, and
never once palliating what he called his crime by trying to recall the
fact that he had not slept the previous night, and that he had been
completely exhausted.
There was the fact staring him in the face; he had been lying there
thinking of escaping, and listening to the cries of the prowling tigers,
and--"Stop," he asked himself, "where did the reality end and dreaming
begin? Did he see the Malay get up and hurl a torch out of the open
door, and then come back and lie down?"
Yes, he felt sure that was true, but where that which he was watching
shaded off into dreamland, he could not tell.
It was weak, perhaps, but the scalding tears rose and filled his eyes,
and when he passionately dashed them away and sat up, he felt ready to
make a fierce rush through his guard, and either escape or die.
He was on the point of risking all in some such mad attempt when two of
the men came in, proceeded to make a careful inspection of the place
where he was, and then sat down just in the opening, getting up soon
afterwards, though, to make way for another, who brought in some food on
fresh plantain leaves, rice freshly boiled with fowl, and curry made
with freshly-grated cocoa-nut and peppers. There was an abundance of
fruit, too, but Ali looked at it all with a feeling of disgust. He had
no desire to eat.
The men left the food on its fresh green leaves before him, and went out
to their own meal, while the prisoner sat thinking that the expedition
had by this time started, for he had slept long in spite of his
troublous dream. Then his thoughts turned to the steamer and Bob
Roberts, whose frank, happy face was always before him, and then somehow
he thought of the steamer and its powerful engine, and how it was kept
going with fuel and water; and that set him thinking of himself. How
was he to help his friends if he let himself get weak for want of food.
The result was, that he ate a few grains of rice, when the want of
appetite disappeared, and he went on and made a very hearty meal. He
felt annoyed, though, directly after, to find his captors smile as they
came to remove the fragments of his feast.
Then began once more the terrible hours of anxiety, during which he
paced up and down his prison like some wild beast, his guards squatting
outside, and watching him in the most imperturbable manner, as they
chewed their betel, or varied it by smoking.
So long as he seemed disposed to make no effort to escape they were
civil enough, one offering him, betel, another Java tobacco, an object
much-prized by the Malays, but he did not take them, only fixed his eyes
jealously upon their weapons, and longed to snatch them away, and in
some desperate action to calm the suffering he endured.
Every now and then he listened, fancying he could hear the distant sound
of firing, and he shuddered as he fancied that the massacre had already
begun. But he was soon compelled to own that it was all fancy, and
wearied out, he laid himself down again to try and scheme a way of
escape.
The day slowly advanced, and the heat became intense, in spite of the
shadow in which he lay. A few light gleams came in through thin places
in the roof, but they only seemed to make the room darker, for a couple
of the Malays had been busy stopping up a small hole or two near the
closed window. Now and then some busy fly or crawling beetle took his
attention, or a nimble lizard in chase of an insect, and he thought of
the native proverb, as he saw how patiently the lizard crept along after
its intended victim, and waited its time until with unerring certainty
it could make its stroke.
He told himself that he must take a lesson from the quiet little
reptile, and await his time.
And so the day wore on, every hour convincing him more and more of the
impossibility of escape, unless some change should take place in the
arrangements.
One gleam of hope came to him, and that was afforded by the restlessness
of his guard. They seemed to be expecting some one, and watch was
evidently kept for his arrival, but as the evening drew near there was
no change, and the hope that the expected messenger might have been
about to order them to convey him elsewhere--to a place perhaps
affording a better chance of escape, died away.
True, the hope had been mingled with a sense of dread, for he felt that
if a messenger had come he might have been bearer of an order to put him
to death. But no one arrived, the sun was sinking fast, and his agony
on the increase, for night was close at hand, with no prospect of his
being able to convey the ill news he had to his friends.
The heat had been terrible to him in his excited state, and the evening
breeze that now came whispering through the leaves seemed but little
better. The men in the next room had twice over brought him food and
water, and they were now busily preparing their dammar-torches, a couple
of which were soon burning brightly, sending a warm glow like a golden
band right across the prisoner's room, leaving both sides in the shade.
Worn-out with weariness of mind and body, Ali lay there at last, telling
himself that he ought to follow the example of his compatriots, and
calmly accept the inevitable.
But that he could not do, for he lay there fuming with impatience, and
watching the outer room for a chance of escape. That did not come, for
the party were more watchful than ever; and at last he sank back,
feeling that all was over, and praying that warning might be given to
those in danger, in some other way.
For the sake of coolness he was lying away from his mat, on the bamboo
floor, between the rough pieces of which the night air came up, mingled
with the sweet odours of the forest; and as he lay there, with his head
throbbing from the mental excitement, while his guards were talking
together in a low voice, Ali began to wonder whether he should hear the
tiger prowling about the place that night. Then he began to think of
the midshipman and the ensign, and he tried to comfort himself with the
idea that the English were very brave, and might read Sultan Hamet a
severe lesson instead of being beaten.
These thoughts were just crossing his mind, when he started, for it
seemed to him that there was something rising close at hand, and then a
faint touch.
This was evidently heard only by himself, for no one in the outer place
had moved.
Ali felt a strange shudder pass through him, for the noise was just that
which a large serpent would make as it forced its way between some old
pieces of woodwork, and this was just the place for some monster to make
its haunt. It had evidently been temporarily driven away, but had now
in the silence of the evening returned to its home in the deserted
house.
Ali was as brave as most young fellows of his age, but at the same time
he shrank from contact with such a loathsome beast, and lay motionless,
wondering whether it would pass him by, and then half-resolving to call
the men to come with lights.
He was on the point of shouting to them, but he hesitated as his alarm
might be foolish, and the noise be caused by some inoffensive creature.
He lay there listening, and as he did so he suddenly felt paralysed, for
something touched his hand. The contact had such an effect upon him
that he could not move.
It was a serpent, he was sure, for it felt cold and damp, and--there it
was again, evidently coming up between the bamboos of the floor, and
seeking about, and--Why, it was a hand, and it grasped his wrist! Ali
wanted to call aloud, but he felt as if suffering from nightmare; to
leap up, but he felt helpless, and lay bathed in perspiration. He knew
what it was now; some miscreant beneath the house, seeking out where he
lay.
He knew of plenty of cases where men had been assassinated by an enemy
finding out where they slept in a room, and then quietly going beneath
in the night, and thrusting his kris between the bamboos.
This, then, was the way in which he was to be slain--as if it had been
done by some stranger. One of his guards then must be beneath the
house, though he had not heard one go out.
And yet, knowing all this, he could not stir, but lay as if stunned,
till the blood that had been frozen seemed suddenly to start in rapid
action, and his veins began to throb, for instead of the blade of a kris
being thrust remorselessly into his side, the handle was softly pushed
through against his hand.
This was a friend then below him, and had he had any doubt before, the
soft pressure of a hand upon his told him that he was right, for there
was a ring upon one finger that touched his, whose form he recognised.
It was his father's ring, and he had come at the risk of losing his own
life to save his son's.
For a few moments hand pressed hand. Then Ali's was drawn softly down
between the bamboos, and two hands placed it under one of the long,
split canes upon which he was lying, held it there, and then pressed it
upwards.
Ali was puzzled. He dare not speak, neither did the Tumongong below
venture so much as to whisper, but kept on forcing his son's hand
upwards.
There was a faint creak, and then the light came into Ali's puzzled
brain. It was plain enough now; this bamboo had been loosened at one
end, for it gave way; and the young man's heart throbbed painfully, as
he felt that the way of escape was open. He had but to wait his time,
and then softly raise this one broad, split cane, to make space enough
to let himself slide through into the open space beneath the
post-supported house. Then the jungle was before him, and it was his
own fault if he did not escape in the darkness.
He left off clasping the broad, split bamboo, and stretched out his hand
once more to clasp that of his father, in expression of his
thankfulness; but though he reached out in all directions, striving to
grasp the loving hand that had brought help, there was nothing near, and
Ali felt as if in a dream, till his other hand touched the kris that was
now beneath his chest.
It was his right arm that was forced down between the bamboos, and he
was consequently lying over upon his chest, when, to his horror, he
heard a noise, and saw the principal of his guards seize a torch and
enter the room, kris in hand.
For a moment Ali felt that he must spring up, kris in hand, and fight
for his life. Fortunately he lay still and feigned sleep, his heart
beating heavily, as he hoped to conceal the loosened bamboo with his
body, as well as the kris.
The Malay looked curiously round the room, and held his dammar-torch on
high, as he peered here and there. Not that he had heard a sound, but
he was evidently suspicious, or else extra careful.
Ali lay motionless and breathing heavily, but with a choking sensation
in his breast, as he felt that now, just when escape was open to him, he
had been discovered. He was in such a state of excitement that he was
ready to spring up and attack his guard, should he make any sign of
having found out what had taken place; but though the man held the torch
here and there, and walked round the room before coming back and bending
down over Ali, as if to see whether he was asleep, he saw nothing.
Then a fresh dread assailed the prisoner. Why was this man bending over
him, and did he mean evil against him?
Ali would have given anything to have been able to turn round and face
his enemy, but to have made the slightest movement would have been to
show that he had a kris beneath him, and his arm right through between
the bamboos, so the young man lay perfectly still, mastered his emotion
as best he could, and waited for what seemed an unreasonable space of
time, till the Malay slowly moved off into the outer room, and sticking
his torch in the floor, seated himself with his companions, and began to
smoke.
Panting with excitement, Ali lay there in the darkness, and for some
time not daring to move; but at last, watching the effect upon his
guards the while, he made an uneasy movement and muttered a few
unintelligible words.
The men looked up for a moment, but afterwards paid no heed; and finding
this so, Ali secured the kris in the folds of his sarong, after softly
withdrawing his arm from between the bamboos of the floor.
To his great delight, he found them very loose; and after waiting a
reasonable time, and until his guards seemed to be settled, he softly
raised the one that was loose, and rolled it, as it were, over on to the
side, leaving a narrow opening through the floor.
Just as he did so, a low, snarling growl close at hand announced the
return of the tiger.
This was terrible; for if he descended now, he was going from one danger
to another, and his position was pitiable. At any moment the Malays
might come in and see that the bamboo had been moved; and now all he had
to do was to squeeze down through the opening, and glide away into the
darkness.
There was the snarling growl again. The tiger evidently scented prey,
and it came closer and closer. In fact, Ali felt that it was quite
possible that the beast might spring up at the opening to seize him.
What could he do but wait?
His patience was rewarded; for as the great cat came prowling nearer,
one of the Malays, who was uneasy at its presence, seized a torch, as
had been done the past night; the others standing ready with their
spears, advanced, and waiting until the animal seemed ready to make a
spring at the door, he hurled the blazing piece of dammar, overturning
the second torch in the act, one of his companions trampling it out, to
save the floor from being set alight.
There was a snarling yell, once more followed by a loud shout from the
Malays, when the tiger was heard to bound heavily away through the
jungle, its yell being answered by another tiger some distance away.
Now was Ali's time. The Malays were talking, and trying to relight the
torch, the place being in total darkness; and without a moment's
hesitation the prisoner softly let himself down through the long narrow
slit, lower and lower, till he reached his waist, where the kris stopped
his further descent.
This was horrible, as he was as it were caught in the narrow hole, and
he could not get the kris out from the folds of his silken sarong.
The Malays, though, were busy over their light; and freeing the weapon
at last, he let himself glide down lower and lower, but not without
noise, for there was hardly room for him to pass, and he began to
tremble, lest his head should refuse to go through.
At any moment his guards might come in and find him in this helpless
state, for he dared not hurry, but had to literally force his way down
till he had only his head and shoulders above, his eyes glaring wildly
in the direction of the outer room, where the Malays were talking.
By sheer force of muscle he sustained himself, as he hung at length with
his head only in the room, and to his horror he found that it would not
pass through; for he was opposite two of the knots of the bamboo, and
strive how he would, he could not manage to get himself a little way
along, to where the wood curved in.
Just then a light flashed upon his face, and he saw that his guards had
succeeded in re-illumining their room; while to his horror, he now found
that they were coming in to him.
With a tremendous effort, and feeling now that it was no time to study
about noise, Ali forced himself a little way along, but in doing so
slipped, and hung by his head, fixed between the bamboos, as the leader
of his captors entered, uttered a shout, and made a bound forward to
seize him.
That did it!
Had he come forward carefully, he could have seized his helpless
prisoner; but this leap on the elastic, hollow canes bent one down, and
set Ali free, his guard uttering a shout of rage as his captive
literally slipped through his fingers, Ali's head disappearing from the
light of the torch, and revealing the long narrow slit, looking dark and
strange, in the floor.
"Quick, the door!" shouted the Malay, as he tried to force himself down
through the slit--but had to struggle back, giving Ali moments to
recover himself from the painful shock he had sustained; and when the
man had reached the door, torch in hand, and leaped down to where his
men were hurrying here and there, it was for the light to gleam for a
moment on Ali's bright, silken baju, as he plunged into the jungle,
forty yards away.