The merchant stared in the young Rajah's convulsed face without
speaking, and Murad exclaimed:
"I had heard news, and was coming down. Then came the messengers; but
tell me," he cried, "I cannot bear it! This is not true?"
Mr Perowne gazed fixedly in the dark, lurid eyes before him, as if
fascinated by their power, and then said sternly:
"It is quite true, sir; quite true."
"No, no!" cried the Malay Rajah, excitedly, "not true that she is gone;
not true that she cannot be found?"
"Yes, sir," repeated the merchant again, in a low, troubled voice. "She
was taken from us last night."
The Rajah uttered some words in his own tongue that sounded like a
passionate wail, as he staggered back, as if struck heavily, reeled,
clutched at the nearest person to save himself, and then fell with a
crash upon the floor.
The little party assembled crowded round the prostrate man; but at a
word from Dr Bolter they drew back, and he went down on one knee beside
the young man to loosen his collar.
"A little more air. Keep back, please!" said the doctor, sharply.
"Mary, a glass of water."
As Mrs Bolter filled a glass from a carafe upon the sideboard, the
doctor took a bottle of strong salts offered by one of the ladies
present, and held it beneath the young man's nostrils, but without the
slightest effect.
Then the water was handed to the doctor, who liberally used it about the
young Prince's face, as the Resident drew near and gazed upon the
prostrate figure, keenly noting the clayey hue of the face and the great
drops of dank perspiration that stood upon the brow.
"What is it, doctor?" he whispered.
"Fainting--over-excitement," replied Dr Bolter. "He's coming round."
The fact was beginning to be patent to all, for a change was coming over
the young man's aspect, and he began to mutter impatiently as the drops
of water were sprinkled upon his face, opening his eyes at last and
gazing about him in a puzzled way, as if he could not comprehend his
position.
Then his memory seemed to come back with a flash, and he started up into
a sitting position, muttered a few Malay words in a quick, angry manner,
sprang to his feet, and then, with his eyes flashing, he snatched his
kris from the band of his sarong, showing his teeth and standing
defiant, ready to attack some enemy with the flame-shaped blade that was
dully gleaming in his hand.
"Come, Rajah," said the doctor, soothingly, "be calm, my dear sir. You
are among friends."
"Friends!" he cried, hoarsely. "_No_: enemies! You have let him take
her away, I know," he hissed between his teeth; "but you shall tell me.
Who else has gone?"
"Captain Hilton," said the doctor.
"Yes, I was sure," hissed the Malay. "He was always there at her side.
I was ref--fused; but I cannot sit still and see her stolen away by
another, and I will have revenge--I will have revenge!"
The Malay Prince's aspect told plainly enough that he would have sprung
like a wild beast at his enemy's throat had he been present; and saving
Mrs Bolter and Grey, who stood holding her hand, the ladies crowded
together, one or two shrieking with alarm as the Resident quietly
advanced to the young Malay.
"Put up your weapon, sir," he said firmly. "We are not savages.
Recollect that you are amongst civilised people now."
The Rajah turned upon him with so fierce and feline a look that Grey
Stuart turned paler than she already was, and pressed Mrs Bolter's hand
spasmodically; but Harley did not shrink, he merely fixed the young man
as it were with his eyes, before whose steady gaze the sullen, angry
glare of the young Prince sank, and he stood as if turned to stone.
"Yes," he said, in a guttural voice; "you are right;" and slowly
replacing his kris in its sheath, he covered the hilt with his silken
plaid before standing there with his brows knit, and the veins in his
temples standing out as if he were engaged in a heavy struggle to master
the savage spirit that had gained the ascendant.
"That is better," said the Resident, quietly. "Now we can talk like
sensible men."
"Yes," replied the Rajah; "but it is hard--very hard. It masters me,
and I feel that I cannot bear it. You know what I have suffered, and
how I fought it down. Mr Harley, Mr Perowne, did I not act like an
English gentleman would have done?"
"Yes, yes," said Mr Perowne, hastily.
"I tried so hard that I might," he whispered. "I was born a Malay; but
I am trying to become more like you. I thought I had mastered
everything; but when I hear this news it is too much for me, and--Mr
Harley--doctor--give me something to make me calm, or I shall go mad."
He turned away and stood for a few moments with his back to them, while
the party assembled whispered their thoughts till the young man turned
once more, and they saw that his face was calm and impassive, as if no
furious storm of rage had just been agitating its surface.
"What are you going to do?" he said, in a low, deep voice, gazing from
Mr Perowne to the Resident and back again.
"Search, sir, until we have found the lady," said the latter, quietly.
"I will help," said the Rajah; whose eyes emitted a flash that told of
the rage in his heart.
"Thank you," said the Resident, quietly.
"You will pursue them?" continued the Rajah. "Tell me, by your laws do
you kill this man for what he has done?"
"We do not think there is any need of pursuit, sir," replied Mr Harley,
quietly; "we fear that there has been an accident."
"I have brought down two nagas, and two smaller boats," cried the Rajah,
eagerly. "There are a hundred of my people waiting. Shall I send them
to follow, or will you give them your commands? They are your slaves
until this is done."
The Resident stood thinking for a minute or two, and the Rajah turned
from him impatiently.
"We lose time!" he cried, angrily. "Mr Perowne, you do not speak.
Tell me--you are her father--what shall I do?"
Mr Perowne held out his hand, which the Rajah seized.
"Thank you, Rajah," he said simply; "but we must be guided by wisdom in
what we do. Mr Harley will speak directly. He is trying to help us.
I cannot say more," he faltered. "I am crushed and helpless under this
blow."
"Tut, mon! don't give way!" whispered old Stuart, going to his side.
"Keep a stout hairt and all will be well."
A couple of hours of indecision passed away, for the coming of the Rajah
had thrown them off the track. They had had one scent to follow, and,
however blindly, they were about to attempt it, but were now thrown back
upon two other lines--the one being the suggestion of an accident; the
other of elopement.
The hot day was wearing on, and the boatmen were returning boat by boat,
but without the slightest information, not even a vague suggestion upon
which hope could be hung. Still, nothing more had been done--nothing
seemed possible under the circumstances; and a general feeling of
despondency was gathering over the little community, when a new
suspicion dawned in the Resident's mind, and he blamed himself for not
having thought of it before.
The suspicion had but a slight basis, still it was enough; and eager as
he was to find something to which he could cling, Neil Harley felt for
the moment glad of the mental suggestion, and felt that all idea of some
terrible boat accident might be set aside, for at last he had found the
clue.