Seeing how earnestly the Princess was talking to Grey Stuart, Chumbley
looked around for another companion amongst the busy, chatting throng,
and found him in the person of Doctor Bolter, who was coming that way.
"Well?" said the latter.
"Well?" replied Chumbley.
"It's all right."
"Right? Oh, yes, I think so; but, I say, doctor, the next time you are
lunching with a native, and you think the cups are poisoned, don't show
it quite so plainly."
"Did I show it, my dear boy?"
"Horribly," said Chumbley, coolly. "Here are you, a man who passes his
time in giving other people numbers of poisonous doses, and yet you make
so much fuss about taking one yourself!"
"Tut--tut, man! Tut--tut!" ejaculated the doctor. "Hold your whisht,
as old Stuart says. I couldn't help the thought; but it was a very
unjust one I must say."
"So purposeless," said Chumbley. "Why should the Princess want to
poison us?"
"Out of spite perhaps," said the doctor. "I don't think we have behaved
very generously to her in reply to her appeal."
"On the head of the Colonial Secretary be it," said Chumbley, relapsing
into his slow drawl.
"But unfortunately it does not fall upon his head," retorted the doctor,
grimly. "The Princess, disappointed in her appeal, could not reach the
Colonial Secretary in London, but she could reach us."
"And she won't do anything of the kind, doctor," said Chumbley, warmly.
"She's a very good sort of woman, in spite of her skin, and her party is
a great success. It will be our turn to do something next."
"What, in the shape of a feed?"
"Yes, I think so; only this hot climate seems to take all the energy out
of a fellow."
For the Princess's party was undoubtedly a grand success, the fairy-like
aspect of the scene adding immensely to the effect. The conduct of the
Sultan was simply perfect; and his efforts to supplement the hostess in
her endeavour to give pleasure won the encomiums of all.
As evening approached there was a little nervousness displayed by the
ladies at the idea of staying late; and one and all appealed to Mrs
Bolter, who immediately began metaphorically to play the part of hen,
and displayed a desire to gather the whole of the ladies beneath her
wings.
"I promise you there is no occasion for fear," said the Princess,
earnestly; "and besides, if you depart so soon, the preparations my
people have made to illuminate the jungle will be all in vain."
"What do you say, Mr Harley?" said little Mrs Bolter, rather
petulantly, for she was growing tired. "Dr Bolter is not near for me
to appeal to him. Don't you think we ought to go?"
"You will miss the moonlight ride down the river if you go so soon,"
said the Princess, "and that will be far more beautiful than anything
here."
"I think," said the Resident, quietly, "that when our friend and ally--"
"Ally, Mr Harley?" said the Princess, in a low voice.
"Has taken so much pains for our gratification, we should be behaving
coldly if we hurried away. Ladies, I think I may promise you a safe
return."
"Safe return?" said the Princess.
"Yes," said the Resident; "the river is deep, but perfectly clear of
obstructions, and we have good rowers and good boats."
The Princess was on the whole so pressing, and seemed so likely to be
offended if her proposals were slighted, that after a little
consultation it was finally determined to stay, and the time passed
rapidly on.
The Rajah had provided music and Malay dancers, while the Inche Maida's
women proved to be possessed of pleasant voices, singing in chorus in a
mournful minor way. Then, as the evening closed in, and the
ingeniously-arranged lamps kept starting into life amidst the lustrous
green of the forest trees, the scene became more and more fairy-like,
and beautiful in the extreme.
"Talk about the Arabian nights," said Chumbley in the interval of a
dance, during which he had Helen Perowne for partner, "I think they
would have had to be very fine nights indeed to come up to this. It is
about the best thing I ever saw."
"Yes," said Helen, dreamily, "it is very charming;" and she glanced
carelessly round from beneath her long fringed lids, as if she were
quite accustomed to displays made in her honour and they quite palled
upon her.
"Yes, it is charming," said Chumbley, in an amused way. "Get much of
this sort of thing at school?"
Helen's eyes opened wide, and she darted an angry look at the speaker.
"How she would like to bring me to my knees," thought Chumbley to
himself.
"The insolent! How dare he treat me as if I were a schoolgirl? but I'll
punish him yet."
The quadrille went on, and at the end Chumbley led his partner round the
open space set apart for the dancers; Helen languidly using her fan, and
lowering her eyes or talking to the lieutenant whenever they passed the
Rajah.
"I say, Miss Perowne," said Chumbley, lightly, just as they were near
the Princess, who was talking quietly to Grey Stuart and the Resident,
"how would you like to give up civilisation, and live out here?"
"What an absurd question, Mr Chumbley!" she replied, haughtily, and
with the knowledge that question and answer were heard by the group they
passed. "Not at all; I detest the barbarity of the country, and the
Malay customs!"
"Well, I don't know," said Chumbley; "I don't see much barbarity. The
people are simple in their habits, but decidedly refined."
"Absurd!" said Helen, contemptuously.
"I think Miss Perowne promised me her hand for the next dance," said the
Rajah, approaching with a soft, cat-like step, smiling and bowing the
while.
Helen looked annoyed, but she was mistress of her emotions; and quietly
relinquishing Chumbley's arm, she laid her gloved hand upon the Rajah's
sleeve as coolly as if there had never been between them the slightest
cause for uneasiness.
"She's a clever one and no mistake," said Chumbley to himself. "I hope
she won't be stupid enough to begin flirting again. Matters seem to;
have settled down now, and it will be a pity for them to become
troublesome once more. Wonder where the doctor is? I think I'll lure
him behind the trees, and we'll have a cigar together. It's too hot to
dance."
He turned to go, after a final glance at Helen and the Rajah, but found
himself face to face with the Inche Maida.
"Ah, giant?" she said, in excellent English, laying her hand upon his
arm, and, as it were, taking him into custody. "I heard what you said a
little while ago to beautiful Helen Perowne, and I am going to ask you
the same question."
"I say," thought Chumbley, "this isn't leap-year, is it?"
"How would you like to give up civilisation and live out here in the
wilds?"
Chumbley strolled on with the Princess in the soft light shed by the
paper lanterns beneath the spreading palms, between whose mighty pinnate
leaves an occasional glimpse of the lustrous starlit sky could be
obtained. All around was very beautiful, and through the soft,
scent-laden summer air came the strains of music sounding soft and
subdued. There was a delicious languor in the breeze that seemed to
prison the spirits in a gentle calm; and as Chumbley strolled softly on,
he said, slowly:
"Well, I don't know, Princess; but just now I seem to fancy that it
would be just the sort of life that would suit me."
"And Captain Hilton?" said the Princess, smiling.
"I don't know about Hilton," replied Chumbley. "I fancy he's more
ambitious than I am. For my part I should want an elephant, plenty of
fishing, plenty of shooting--"
"Anything else?" said the Princess, who seemed amused at the young man's
cool, easy-going way.
"Well, it's a regular paradise out here. Very beautiful."
"Yes, my country is beautiful," said the Princess.
"Well, if I were to come out to such a place to play Adam, I should want
an Eve. You don't understand that."
"What savages you think us," said the Princess, warmly. "I challenge
you! I know more of your religion and history than you do about mine."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Chumbley heartily; and the Princess looked angry,
but afterwards seemed to enjoy the young man's genuine mirth.
"Do you English think it good manners to laugh at a Malay lady?" she
said reproachfully.
"Laugh? At you?" he said frankly. "My dear Princess, I was laughing at
myself. Why, I'm one of the most ignorant fellows under the sun. I
know my drill, and how to handle a gun; that's about all."
"You depreciate yourself," said the Princess, in an admonitory tone;
"but I do know who were Adam and Eve. You mean that if you lived out
here you would want a wife."
Chumbley nodded.
"Marry Helen Perowne and settle down out here. I would build you a
house."
"Heaven forbid!" said Chumbley, laughing. "No, Princess, I am not one
of her slaves. I look at her now as I should at a beautiful picture."
"You look at a beautiful picture?" replied the Princess, wonderingly.
"Oh, yes, I understand now. What? so soon! Well, well, I daresay you
are right, Mr Harley," she said, in reply to a remark made by the
Resident.
"Yes, he's quite right, madam," said Dr Bolter, who also bustled up.
"Dew's falling fast. We must not have any of my folks down with fever
after so pleasant a trip."
"I always take your advice, doctor," said the Princess, smiling; "and
say it is good."
"It is a long way back," said the Resident, smiling.
"Yes, but you have the stream with you," said the Princess. "Where is
the Sultan? There: you shall go. I will not keep you longer than is
right, for I want you to come again."
"After so pleasant a welcome, I'm sure all will be too happy," said the
Resident.
"I shall only be too glad to entertain you," replied the Princess, "if I
am in a position to do so. Who knows? You English refuse to help me;
and perhaps by another month I may be poor, and little better than a
slave."
"But with plenty of friends in Sindang," said the little doctor, warmly.
"Here is one."
"I know it doctor," she replied, taking his outstretched hand.
"Grey, my child," whispered Mrs Doctor, who was some distance away,
"I'm sure that is a very dreadful woman! It does not take so long as
that to shake hands!"
"I think it is only the Princess's manner," replied Grey, smiling.
"And very bad manners too," said the little lady. "Now, where is
Arthur?"
"That is he," said Grey, "following Helen with her cloak."
"Now, there!" cried the little lady, angrily, "now is my brother Arthur
the man to be carrying Helen Perowne's cloak? Oh, dear me! I do wish
we were safe back at home! I don't like these picnics in savage lands
at all!"
"Good-bye, if I don't have a chance to speak to you again, Mr
Chumbley," said the Princess. "Is not your friend coming to say
good-bye? Ah, I see! he is in attendance with your Mr Chaplain upon
the beauty."
"I'd go and say good-night to Madame Inche Maida, Hilton," whispered
Chumbley, the next minute to his friend, and the latter went up and
shook hands, thanking the Princess for the pleasant evening they had
had, and hoping soon to see her again.
"I thank you," said the Princess, coldly. "I hope you have enjoyed
yourself; but, you are keeping Mr Perowne's little girl waiting.
Good-night."
That was imagination on the Princess's part, for Helen was talking to
the chaplain, and had her back to them.
"She's a curious woman," said Hilton; "and I don't like her a bit!"
And then, taking advantage of his dismissal, he bowed, and went to where
Grey Stuart was talking to Mrs Bolter, as a half-way house to Helen, at
whose side he was soon after.
Half an hour later the whole party were safely embarked. The boats were
hung with lanterns, the full moon was above the black jungle-trees, and
the river looked like molten silver as the oars dipped in regular
cadence to the rowers' song. Then on and on floated the two great
nagas; the whole scene, as they glided between the two black banks of
trees, being so weirdly beautiful, so novel, and so strange, that it
affected all present, though in different ways.
Helen was hot and peevish; Mrs Bolter was petulant and fretting about
the doctor stopping so long away; while Grey Stuart felt as if at the
smallest provocation she would burst into tears.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I say, Chum, old fellow," said Hilton, as they stood outside their
quarters in the brilliant moonlight smoking a cigar before turning in
for the night, and after a chat about their pleasant passage down to the
landing-stage--"I say, Chum, old fellow."
"Hullo!"
"She doesn't seem to like me, but not a bad sort of woman that
Princess."
"Not at all. Pity she's so brown."
"Yes, rather; but I say, Chum."
"Hullo!"
"I'll bet a dollar she squeezed your hand when you were coming away,
eh?"
"Never tell tales out of school," said Chumbley, slowly. "Squeezes of
hands leave no impression, so they don't count. I didn't ask you if you
squeezed Helen Perowne's hand."
"I shouldn't mind if you did, old lad. Perhaps so; but don't bother,
and pass me a match."
Chumbley chuckled softly to himself; and after a time they finished
their cigars and turned in, the lieutenant sleeping soundly, while the
rest of the principal personages in this narrative were wakeful and
tossing from side to side, perhaps the most restless being the
successful beauty, Helen Perowne.