Captain Hilton saw no reason for detaining his subaltern, only bade him
be ready to return to the island at the slightest sign of danger, which
Chumbley promised to do; and he was about to walk down to the
landing-stage, when, happening to gaze across the swift river towards
Mr Perowne's beautiful garden, which sloped down to the water's edge,
with as good a semblance of a lawn as could be obtained in that part of
the world, he caught sight of a couple of figures in white, walking
slowly up and down in the shade of the trees.
He was too far distant to make out their faces, but he had no doubt that
the two were Helen and Grey Stuart.
"Now, I would not mind laying a whole shilling that Master Hilton has
his binocular focussed exactly upon one of your faces, and is watching
every turn of expression. If you smile he thinks it is with thoughts of
him; and take it altogether, the poor fellow imagines you are always
dreaming of him, when you are wondering what is worn now in Paris or
London, and whether any of the new fashions will reach you by the next
steamer.
"Yes, that's Helen--fair Helen," he said, leaning upon a rail, and
gazing across the water. "Chumbley, old fellow, I'm beginning to think
you are not such a fool as I used to imagine you to be. It was a good
brave stroke to get away from the toils of that syren; for there's no
mistake about it, old man, you were just like a big fly in the pretty
spider's web.
"By George! she is a very lovely girl though! She seems to fascinate
everyone she comes near. Thank goodness, she only got me by one leg,
and I broke out, I hope, without much damaging the net. Certainly she
soon seemed to repair it. I wish I were a good prophet," he went on,
lighting a cigarette. "I should like to be able to say what is to take
place here, who'll marry whom, and who'll remain single. Hullo! what's
coming now?"
The splash of oars roused him from his reverie, and turning towards the
landing-stage, he made out a dragon-boat, or naga, as the larger
row-galleys used by the Malay nobles are called, rapidly approaching the
little isle.
It was propelled by a dozen rowers, all dressed uniformly in yellow silk
bajus or jackets, their coarse black hair being topped by a natty little
cap similar to that worn by a cavalry soldier in undress, and they kept
stroke with wonderful accuracy as they forced the boat along.
A large shed-like awning of bamboo and palm leaves covered the latter
part of the vessel; and Chumbley forgot his customary inertia, and
scanned the boat eagerly, to see if it contained armed men. To his
surprise, however, he saw that the whole space beneath the broad awning
was filled with women, whose brightly-coloured silken sarongs were hung
from their heads after the manner of veils; and though the rowers each
wore his kris, the hilt was covered, and it was evidently a friendly
visit.
"I don't know though," thought Chumbley. "Perhaps it is a ruse, and
instead of women, those are smart youths, well armed, ready to give our
fellows a dig with the kris, and take the place by surprise.
"No," he said, after a few moments' pause, for there was no mistaking
the object of the visit, the Malays being a particularly religious
people, and great sticklers for form and ceremony, to which they adhere
with scrupulous exactness, so that any one pretty well versed in their
customs would know at a glance at their dress whether their object was
friendly or the reverse.
"Why, it must be the Inche Maida," muttered Chumbley, giving the native
name to a princess residing some distance higher up the stream. "I
ought to have been in full fig. I suppose I must go and receive her as
I am."
He threw away his cigarette, turned out the guard, sent a messenger up
to the Residency with the news of the Princess's arrival, bidding the
man leave word at the officers' quarters as he passed, and then walked
down to the landing-stage, just as the dragon-boat, with its carved and
gilded prow, was run abreast.
Chumbley courteously raised his muslin-covered pith helmet, tucked it
beneath his arm, and helped the Princess to step ashore.
She was a remarkably handsome woman of about thirty, with features of
the Malay type, but softened into a nearer approach to beauty than is
common amongst the women of this nation, whose prominent lips and
dilated nostrils are not compensated by the rich long black hair, and
large lustrous dark eyes.
In the case of the Princess there was almost a European cast of feature,
and she possessed an imposing yet graceful carriage, which with her
picturesque costume and flower-decked hair, made her far from
unattractive, in spite of her warm brown skin.
She accepted Chumbley's assistance with a smile that checked the thought
in his mind that she was a fine-looking woman; for that smile revealed a
set of remarkably even teeth, but they were filed to a particular
pattern and stained black.
Chumbley removed his eyes at once from this disfigurement, and let them
rest on the magnificent knot of jetty hair, in which were stuck, in
company with large gold pins, clusters of a white and odorous jasmine.
He could not help noting, too, the gracefully-worn scarf of gossamer
texture, passing from her right shoulder beneath her left arm, and
secured by a richly-chased gold brooch of native workmanship. This she
removed to set the scarf at liberty, so as to throw over her head to
screen it from the sun.
Accustomed to command, she made no scruple in exposing her face to the
gaze of men; but as the women who formed her train alighted, each raised
her hands to a level with her temples, and spread the silken sarong she
wore over her head, so that it formed an elongated slit, covering every
portion of the face but the eyes, and following the Princess in this
uncomfortable guise, they took their places ashore.
"I have come to see the Resident," said the Princess, looking very
fixedly at Chumbley, and speaking in excellent English. "Will you take
me to his presence?"
Chumbley bowed, and he forgot his slow drawl as he said that he would be
happy to lead her to the Residency; but felt rather disconcerted as the
visitor exclaimed, in a very pointed way:
"I have not seen you before. Are you the lieutenant?"
"I have not had the pleasure of meeting you either," he replied, rather
liking the visitor's dignified way as he recovered himself; "but I have
heard Mr and Miss Perowne talk of the Inche Maida."
"What did they say about me?" she said, sharply.
"That you were a noble lady, and quite a princess."
"Ah!" she replied, looking at him fixedly. "How big and strong you
are."
Chumbley stared and tried to find something suitable to reply, but
nothing came, and the situation seemed to him so comical that he smiled,
and then, as the Princess smiled too, he laughed outright.
"Forgive my laughing," he said, good-humouredly. "I can't help being
big; and I suppose I am strong."
"There is the Resident!" said the lady then; and she drew her hand from
Chumbley's arm. "Ah! and the captain."
For just then Harley stepped out from the Residency veranda to meet his
visitors; and Hilton, who had found time to put on the regimental
scarlet and buckle on his sword, came up to make the reception more
imposing.
The Princess shook hands in the European fashion, and accepted the
Resident's arm, smiling and bowing as if excusing herself to Hilton.
Then, declining to enter the house, she took a seat in the broad veranda
amongst the Resident's flowers, while her women grouped themselves
behind her, letting fall the sarongs they held over their faces now
that, with the exception of a single sentry, none of the common soldiers
were about to gaze upon their charms.
But for her costume, the Inche Maida would have passed very well for a
dark Englishwoman, and she chatted on for a time about the Resident's
flowers and her own; about her visits to the English ladies at the
station; and the various European luxuries that she kept adding to her
home some twenty miles up the river, where she had quite a palm-tree
palace and a goodly retinue of slaves.
Both Mr Harley and Hilton knew that there was some special object in
the lady's visit; but that was scrupulously kept in the background,
while coffee and liqueurs were handed round, the visitors partaking
freely of these and the sweetmeats and cakes kept by the Resident for
the gratification of his native friends.
"It is nearly a year since you have been to see me Mr Harley," said the
lady at last. "When will you come again?"
"I shall be only too glad to come and see you," said the Resident, "I
have not forgotten the pleasure of my last journey to your home."
"And you will come too?" said the Princess quickly; and she turned her
great dark eyes upon Hilton, gazing at him fixedly the while.
"I--er--really I hardly think I can leave."
"You will not come?" she cried, with an impetuous jerk of the head.
"You think I am a savage, and you despise my ways. Mr Harley will tell
you I have tried for years to learn your English customs and to speak
your language. It is not fair."
"Indeed," cried Hilton, eager to make up for what the visitor evidently
considered a slight, "I only hesitated on the score of duty."
"You would not care to come," she said, with the injured look of a
spoiled child.
"Indeed I should," exclaimed Hilton, "and I will come."
"You will come?" she cried, with her dark eyes flashing.
"Yes, indeed I will."
She leaned towards him, speaking eagerly:
"I am glad. I like you English. You shall hunt and shoot. There are
tigers, and I have elephants. My slaves shall find game, and you shall
have my boat to fetch you."
Dark as her skin was, the Resident noticed the red blood mantling
beneath it in her cheeks as she spoke eagerly, fixing her eyes upon
Hilton as she spoke, and then lowering the lids in a dreamy, thoughtful
way.
"Then you will both come?" she said.
"Yes, I promise for both; but we cannot leave the station together,"
said Mr Harley.
"It is well," she said, smiling; "and you too, lieutenant--you will come
and see me? You like to shoot. All Englishmen like to shoot."
"Oh, yes, I'll come," said Chumbley, with his slow, heavy drawl. "I
think it would be rather jolly. Yes, I'll come."
She nodded and smiled at him once more, as if he amused her; and Harley
noticed that she glanced at Chumbley again and again as the conversation
went on, looking at him as if he were some fine kind of animal she
thought it would be well to buy at the first opportunity.
All at once, though, she turned sharply upon the Resident, and the
object of her visit came out.
"I want you to help me," she said, with an angry flash in her eye. "I
am a woman, and I cannot fight, or I would not come to you for help.
But you English are just. You have settled in our country, and your
Princess says, `Let there be no cruelty and ill-treatment of the people
where you are.' I have seen you for ten years, ever since I became a
woman who could think and act; but because I am a woman I am oppressed.
Because I will not be his wife Rajah Hamet stops my people's boats, and
takes away tin and rice. His people beat my slaves and steal their
fruit and fowls. Our lives become suffering, for my people are me. I
am not a mother, but they call me mother, and they say, `See, your
children are robbed and beaten; they moisten the dust of the earth with
their tears.'"
"Ah! ah! ah! ay! ayo!"
The three Englishmen started, for at these words of their Princess the
women burst into a piteous wail, and beat their breasts.
"We suffer; I weep with my children," continued the Princess, rising and
holding out her hands, as she went on speaking with a natural grace and
fiery eloquence. "I grow hot with anger, and I am ready to take my
father's kris and limbing and to go out against this coward who
oppresses me; but I am a woman, and I should lead my people to death. I
cannot do this, but I think and think till the rage grows cold, and my
reason comes back, and I say, `The great Queen loves her people, and she
will not have them hurt. Her rulers, and counsellors, and warriors are
in our country, and I will go to them and say, See, I am a woman--a
princess. I pay you the tribute you ask of me, and I give you love and
all I have that you ask. Save me, then, from this man. Teach him that
he cannot rob and injure my people, and so beat and injure me--a
helpless woman.' Will you do this, or shall I go back to my own place
and say, `The English are brave, but they will not help me? I am a
woman, and you and your children must bear your lot.'"
She ceased speaking and crossed her hands humbly upon her breast; but
her eyes lit up as she saw that Chumbley--upon whom her words had had a
remarkable effect--was watching the Resident keenly, and was evidently
eager to speak.
"Princess," said Mr Harley, "I am deeply grieved that you should have
to make this appeal. I do not act in a matter of such grave importance
as this without asking advice; but that I will do at once, and believe
me, if I could help it, you should not wait an hour for redress."
"Not half an hour if I could have my way," cried Chumbley, excitedly.
"Princess, I hope we shall soon visit you for some purpose."
She smiled at him again, and nodded her satisfaction; but there was
something very grave and earnest in her look as she almost timidly
turned to Hilton.
He saw the look, which was one of appeal, and seemed to ask for a reply.
"I, too," he said, "should gladly come to your assistance."
"Then my task is done," she said. "Mr Harley, pray give me your help,
and my people shall be ready should evil days come, as they did when I
was a mere girl, and the English were in peril of their lives."
"Princess, I will do my best," he replied; and at a sign from their lady
the women rose and stood ready to follow her back to her boat.
"Good-bye," she said, simply, and she held out her hand, placing it
afterwards upon Captain Hilton's arm, as if she wished him to escort her
down to the landing-stage.
This he did, followed by Chumbley, and on reaching the boat the rowers
leaped to their places with the alacrity of well-drilled and disciplined
men.
The Princess stood aside till the last of her attendants was in her
place, and then she turned to Hilton.
"Good-bye," she said.
"Good-bye, Princess," he replied, shaking her hand. "I hope we shall
have orders to come to your help."
"So do I," cried Chumbley, as he took the Princess's hand in turn; and
as he uttered his earnest words he involuntarily raised her hand to his
lips and kissed it with profound respect.
The Inche Maida's eyes flashed as she glanced at him, but they turned
directly after with rather a regretful look at Hilton, as she seated
herself beneath the awning. Then giving a signal with her hand, the
rowers' paddles dipped, the swift boat darted out into the stream, was
deftly turned, and began to ascend rapidly; the two young men standing
upon the stage where the guard had presented arms, both of them a good
deal impressed.
"I say, old fellow," cried Chumbley, speaking with animation, "that's an
uncommonly fine woman, in spite of her coffee skin."
"Yea; you seemed to think so," replied Hilton, laughing.
"Did I?" said Chumbley, with his eyes fixed on the retreating boat.
"Yes; I never saw you so polite to a woman before."
"Didn't you? Well, but she is in trouble, poor thing; and I say, hang
it all, old man, how well she spoke out about her people--her children,
and her wrongs."
"Yes, it seems very hard, especially as I don't think Harley will get
instructions to interfere on her behalf."
"Not interfere!" cried Chumbley. "Then it will be a damned shame. My
dear old man, if we don't get orders to dress that fellow down, I'll go
up and see her myself, and instead of tiger-hunting I'll try if I can't
punch the blackguard's head."
"Why, Chumbley, old boy, what's the matter with you!" cried Hilton,
laughing.
"Matter? With me? Nothing at all."
"But you seem all on fire to go and help the Princess."
"Well, of course," said the lieutenant, warmly; "and so I would any
woman who was in distress. Why, hang it all, a fellow isn't worth much
who wouldn't run some risks to protect a woman."
"Hear! hear! Bravo! bravo! Why Chumbley, you improve."
"Stuff! nonsense!" cried the latter, ashamed of his warmth.
"Stuff if you like, and prime stuff," rejoined Hilton. "It's the sort
of stuff of which I like to see men made. I have hopes of you yet,
Chumbley. You will turn ladies' man--grow smooth and refined."
"And use a pouncet-box, eh?"
"No; I draw the line at the pouncet-box and silk," laughed Hilton.
"Never mind! Chaff as much as you like, I'd go and help that Inche
Maida. By Jove! what a name for a woman?"
"Yes, it is a name for such a fine Cleopatra of a princess. I say,
Chum, she seems to have taken quite a fancy to you."
"To me, eh? Well, I like that! Oh, come!" laughed Chumbley. "Why, I
saw her lay her hand upon your arm as if she wanted it to stay there.
I'll swear I saw her squeeze your hand. No, my boy, it was your
Hyperion curls that attracted her ladyship."
"But I'll vow I saw her take a lot of notice of you, Chum."
"Yes, but it was because I looked so big; that was all, lad. She's a
sort of hen Frederick William of Prussia, who would adore a regiment of
six-feet-six grenadiers. But never mind that; I think she ought to be
helped."
"Yes," said Hilton, quietly; "but I wish it was Murad who had done the
wrong, for then I think that I should feel as warm as you--Well, what is
it?"
"Mr Harley wishes to see you directly, sir," said an orderly.
"Come along, Chumbley; there's news, it seems. What is it, Harley?" he
continued, as they joined the Resident in the veranda.
"I have just had news from a man I can trust. Murad is getting his
people together, and I fear it means trouble."
"Let it come, then," said Hilton, firmly. "I'm rather glad."
"Glad!" said the Resident, sternly; "and with all these women and
children under our charge!"
"I was not thinking of them," said Hilton, warmly, "but of chastising a
scoundrel who seems determined to be thrashed."
"I hope he'll bring the other fellow too," said Chumbley.
"Hilton--Chumbley!" said the Resident, sternly. "You think upon the
surface. You do not realise what all this trouble means!"