Murad was startled for the moment, Helen's act was so unexpected. Then
a calm look of satisfaction crossed his face, and he smiled as he stood
there, gazing down at the swarthy beauty, and folding his arms, he
waited for her to speak.
"Do you wish to abase me more than this?" she said at last, in a choking
voice.
"No," he replied, calmly, "that will do. I meant to bring the proud
English beauty to my feet. See, I have done so, and very much sooner
than I expected."
Helen felt that she had made a false move, and the blood ran back to her
heart, as she crouched there, trembling.
"You have brought me to your feet," she said softly. "Be satisfied, and
spare me further degradation."
"What do you wish me to do?" he said in a low, deep voice.
"Send me back home!" she cried excitedly.
"And what then--what of your father and the Resident? What of my
position at the settlement?"
"No one shall know. I will keep it all a secret."
"And you would risk all the remarks that your appearance would excite by
going back?"
"Yes!" she cried passionately, as she thought of Mr Harley, and felt
that he would take her to his heart even then.
"And you honestly believe that no trouble would follow?" said Murad
quietly.
"I am certain of it!" she cried. "I tell you I would keep it secret."
"And I know better," he said contemptuously. "My good girl, do you
think I am a child? If I let them at the settlement know of the step I
have taken, your people would send for help, and my country would be
invaded, my campongs burned, and after they had driven me out, they
would take possession of my land."
"But I would not betray you."
"Pish! They would discover it for themselves. They think you dead now.
Let them think that you had been carried off, and my days would be but
few in my land."
"Oh, no, no!" she cried; "the English are not cruel."
"Oh, no," he echoed, with a derisive smile, "not cruel, only just. Look
here, Helen, I have been gambling: I staked all I had, even to my life,
to win you, and I have won. Now you ask me to resign my gains. It is
ridiculous. How would it be--how does the matter stand? On the one
hand, here is ruin to my place and people and death to myself; on the
other hand, happiness and joy--the happiness of a gratified love, as I
rejoice in my triumph over the woman who first made my pulses throb, and
then trifled with my love."
Helen started to her feet and shrank away, feeling instinctively that
she had as much prospect of finding pity from the tigers of the jungle
as from Murad.
As she retreated from him he smiled with all the consciousness of his
power, and rested upon one elbow, as he reclined upon the mats, watching
her movements, a very idealisation of some glistening serpent, gazing
languidly at the trembling victim that has been placed within its cage,
ready to be stricken down at his good pleasure.
"There," he said, at last, "it is foolish to weary yourself and try to
escape. I tell you it is impossible. You have now the skin and the
dress of a Malay lady; why do you not adopt our ways as well? We are
fatalists, as your people call us. When we see that a thing is to be,
we take it as it comes, and do not murmur and strive against fate. You
see now that it is your fate to be my favourite wife. Why should you
strive against it like some dove that beats its breast against the close
bars of its cage. Come," he continued, making a place for her by his
side, "let us be friends at once, Helen. You do not wish to make me
angry with you, I am dangerous then."
"Angry? With me?" she cried, her indignation asserting itself now, and
her eyes flashed as they met his. "I do not fear your anger."
"And yet it is to be feared," he said quietly. "Ask one of the women
here about my rage, and you will find that it may mean death. They fear
it, and shrink from me when I frown."
For answer, Helen strove once more to tear open the door, and then she
uttered a wild and piercing shriek, for, as silently as one of the
tigers of his own jungle, Murad had gathered himself up and sprung
forward, catching her by the arms, and the next moment he held her
strained to his breast.
Helen's wild shriek was answered on the instant by one without; and
Murad's face became less swarthy in his rage, as he loosed his prisoner
and threw open the door, admitting the younger of the two Malay girls
who had been Helen's gaolers, and who ran to the Rajah and flung herself
upon his breast.
In an access of rage the Malay chief struck her across the face, and
sent her staggering back, as he cursed her brutally for coming at such a
time; and Helen saw how thin a veneer was the English upon the man's
nature, which now asserted itself in all its native savagery as he bade
the girl go.
"No," she cried, turning upon him in a patient, suffering way,
displaying the strength of her weakness as she once more clung to his
arm. "I do not mind your beating me," she said patiently. "I am used
to that: but you said you would love me always; and I will not have this
strange girl come between us."
"If you do not go--" he said hoarsely, and he bent down and whispered to
her with a menacing look, and a touch at the hilt of his kris.
"I am not afraid," she said in the same low tone, as she clung to his
arm. "You would not kill me; and you may beat me. I am used to that.
I say I will not have anyone come between us and stand quietly by."
Murad's hand sought his kris, and his lips parted from his teeth, when
he half drew the weapon from its sheath; but he mastered his savage rage
as he thought of Helen, and spoke quietly and in slow, measured tones,
evidently meaning her to hear and comprehend every word.
"Go," he said, "and you can tell the others this--I have no wife now but
this lady. If either of you speak evil to her or annoy her in any way
you die. I shall not touch you, but you will be taken to the river.
Now leave me at once."
The girl shrank from him, and trembling in every limb, she tottered
towards the door; but her attachment and jealous feelings still refused
to be mastered, and turning back once more, she burst into a wild
passion of weeping, and flung herself upon his breast.
"Go?" he cried angrily, and he repulsed her roughly. "You hear my
words."
He flung her away, and Helen saw her opportunity. Here was one who
hated her, but might be made her friend; and as the girl staggered back
from the violent thrust she had received, Helen caught her in her arms
and clung to her.
For a moment the girl shrank away; but directly after she gazed wildly
in her eyes, and then with an hysterical cry clasped her tightly.
"Stay with me," whispered Helen. "I hate him! Pray stay and save me
from him!"
The trembling girl seemed to grow strong as she found out more fully
what her rival's real feelings were; and as Murad angrily advanced she
retreated with Helen to one corner of the room, uttering so wild and
piercing a shriek that the Rajah stamped his foot with rage, and going
to the door, threw it open and uttered a fierce command.
The result was, that four of the women with whose faces Helen was
already familiar came running in, and Murad pointed peremptorily to the
pair.
"Take her away!" he cried sharply, and the women seized Helen's
defender; but with a quick movement she snatched a little kris from
within her sarong, and they fell back in alarm; while with flashing eyes
she placed one arm round Helen, and gazed menacingly from one to the
other, as if ready to strike at the first who should advance.
The women uttered loud cries and fled to Murad, who fiercely ordered
them once more to separate the pair. No one, however, advanced, and he
threw open the door and bade them go.
The women hurried out, glad to escape, and then the Rajah pointed to the
open door.
"Go!" he said fiercely, and he glared wrathfully at the girl, who
pressed her arm more tightly round Helen, and looked her defiance.
"Will you go?" he said hoarsely; "or am I to have you torn away?"
"No one dare tear me away!" retorted the girl. "I shall stay with her,
and no one shall hurt her while I'm alive."
They spoke so quickly now that Helen could only gather a few words here
and there; but she could make out how fiercely the girl was threatening
to resist any attempt to separate them, even going so far as to present
the point of her weapon at Murad, who shrank angrily away, and stood at
last biting his lips.
"Will you go?" he cried at last, in a furious tone; and as he spoke he
gazed from the girl to Helen and back again.
"No!" she cried fiercely. "I will stay with her. She shall not be your
wife!"