Helen Perowne's horror upon finding herself borne helplessly away was so
great that she swooned, remaining insensible for some very considerable
time, and when she did recover herself it was only to faint again and
again, becoming afterwards so thoroughly prostrate that she took no note
of either time or the direction in which she was being taken.
Hours must have elapsed before, in the total darkness caused by the
stifling veil thrown over her head, she found that she was being carried
in some kind of litter along a forest path, whose leaves and vines
brushed her as she passed.
This seemed to last a long time, and to be very unreal and dreamy. In
fact, more than once she felt that she must be in some terribly troubled
dream, out of which she kept awaking to the reality of her position and
calling for help.
It was in vain she knew, for her voice seemed to return upon her; and at
last, wearied out and exhausted, she lay there passive, thinking of the
past, and wondering what her future was to be.
She was too much prostrated to be able to think with clearness; but her
thoughts kept turning to her career since she left England, and the
dark, threatening face of Murad was constantly before her eyes. That he
was connected with this outrage she felt no doubt, and as she thought of
her weak vanity and the strait to which it had brought her, the tears
filled her eyes and trickled slowly down her cheeks.
Then other faces rose before her in the darkness, as if upbraiding her
for what she had done. She saw the Rev Arthur Rosebury, calm,
patient, and uncomplaining, satisfied if she only gave him a look or
word; Chumbley, her very slave at first, but then a rebel, ready to look
at her mockingly, as if laughing at his broken chain; Hilton, devoted
and tender but exacting, as if he doubted her truth; Murad, again fierce
and lurid in his love, so that she shuddered as she saw his dark eyes
and white teeth; a dozen others with whom she had trifled; and lastly,
the quiet, firm face of Neil Harley, half laughing, half angry with her,
but full of determination, as if he were constantly telling her that he
was but waiting till she had grown wiser, for she would yet be his.
As these faces seemed to rise before her out of the thick darkness, it
was as though she were haunted, and it was in a wild, passionate way
that she seemed in her dreamy state to be defying them, bidding them
go--all but one, whose power was too great even for her angry words to
repel. No; Neil Harley merely mocked and laughed, and seemed to say: "I
can wait; I shall appeal no more, for some day I know, as I have often
said, I shall have you humbled, a suppliant at my feet, begging me to
take you, to protect you, to make you mine. Till then I can wait!"
It was all darkness again, and these words but a fancy of her brain; but
how real it all seemed--so real that Helen shuddered as she wept.
"I hate him--I detest him!" she panted. "I would sooner die than humble
myself as he has said--sooner become the wife of this Indian prince, of
Hilton, or of anyone who pleaded for my love. Supplicate! And to him!
What madness! Why do I think such things? Is my brain reeling? Are my
senses leaving me? Heaven help me? What shall I do?"
The heat was intense, and the prisoner could hardly breathe, so closely
was she veiled; and once more she sank into a dreamy swoon, in which the
realities of her condition were so commingled with fancy that she could
not separate them, and her efforts to master her reason were growing
vain, when she was roused by what she doubted to be real at first, but
which proved to be the gruff voices of men speaking by her litter-side.
Soon after she, too, found that she was being carried up a ladder, and
rousing herself, she made a feeble effort to get free; but so weak was
her straggle, that she was lifted by one man, carried up the steps, and
laid upon a couch.
There was a few moments' pause then, and she heard her late companions
depart. Then she felt busy hands about her, their touch making her
shriek with horror; but as the stifling veil was removed she found it
was nearly daylight, and her relief was great as she saw that she was
surrounded by women.
She was too much exhausted to speak; but she found strength enough to
join her hands together in a mute appeal for help; and one of the women
bent over her, and proceeded to smooth back her dark and tangled hair.
"Give me water!" she panted, hoarsely. "Water!" but her words were not
understood, and it was not until she had made signs, pointing to her
mouth, that those in attendance brought her a cup of the refreshing
fluid.
Whether it was drugged or not she never knew, but directly after she
sank into a sleep that was deep enough to resemble a stupor, though most
probably this was the effect of her utter weakness and prostration, her
mental agony and excitement having been extreme. From this sleep she
did not awaken for many hours, when, upon unclosing her eyes, she found
that a couple of young Malay girls were watching her, evidently waiting
for her to awaken, for no sooner had Helen unclosed her eyes than they
proceeded to attend to her toilet, bringing water, brushes, and other
necessaries, bathing her face, and then laughingly dressing her hair,
chattering away to each other the while.
Helen plied them well with questions, but they only shook their heads;
and feeling that it would be of no avail to resist, she submitted
quietly to their attentions, letting them arrange her hair, which they
did according to their own national tastes, and afterwards began to
solicit her to partake of food.
As this last was placed before her Helen shook her head again and again;
but the girls became so urgent with their pressure that she at last
essayed to partake of the breakfast; but after a few mouthfuls, each of
which seemed as if it would choke her, she broke down and crouched
there, humbled and worn out with anxiety, sobbing aloud as if her very
heart would break.
She felt that in a few short hours all had been changed. The last night
she was Helen Perowne, whose lightest word seemed at the station to be
obeyed as if it were law, and at whose look a score of people were ready
to exert themselves to obey her wishes would she but indicate them to
those who acted as if they were her slaves. To-day she was filled with
a shrinking horror, for the terrible suspicion was ever gaining ground,
and she shuddered in her misery as she thought of what her fate might
be.
The hours went slowly on, but her thoughts were rapid. Her suspicions
gathered strength, but her mental and bodily forces appeared to be
slumbering, and it was only by a strong effort of will that she was able
to keep up some semblance of pride, for she felt that her first display
of weakness had lowered her terribly in her attendants' eyes.
By degrees she grew more composed, and in these calmer moments she began
thinking of Grey Stuart, and wished for the protection of her company,
as she thought more and more of the calm, self-assured manner of her
school companion, and wondered what she was doing now.
Helen could see that she was in a handsomely-decorated room, whose
bamboo-barred window looked out upon waving palms and flowering trees.
The door was hung with a rich silk curtain, and on two sides were low
couches or divans, spread with Indian rugs, several of which were lying
on the smooth bamboo floor.
There was little of ornament in the room, but the hangings and rugs
looked rich, and Helen's suspicion grew rapidly stronger as her eyes
wandered here and there, and she thought of whose all these things must
be.
Suddenly a slight rustle of the silken hangings caught her ear, and
turning her eyes in the direction, she drew a breath of relief as she
saw that it was caused by a little knot of Malay women, who were eagerly
scanning her with their great dark eyes, and evidently regarding her as
a curiosity.
These departed and others came--dark-faced, scowling women, in their gay
sarongs--whispering to each other, and passing comments on the stranger;
while Helen sat there, trying hard to keep up her stately air and to let
these insolent gazers know that though a prisoner she was an English
lady, and their superior still.
Twice over a couple of these visitors addressed some remark to the girls
who seemed to have been placed there as attendants. What these remarks
were Helen could not tell, but they drew forth angry expostulations from
the girls, who at once went and drew the great curtain, and seemed to
forbid further intrusion.
This was evidently the case, for saving that her two attendants remained
in the room, Helen was undisturbed; and feeling somewhat recovered, she
made an effort to win her companions to her side, beginning by
questioning them in as friendly a manner as she could assume, but
without effect; for though it was evident that one of them understood
English words mingled with such Malay as the prisoner could recollect,
the girl made no reply, only looked at her with indifferent eyes, and
kept on shaking her head to _every_ question as to why the speaker had
been seized and was forcibly detained.