If little Mrs Bolter had seen her lord--the quiet, suave medical man,
who by his genuine admiration had so late in life won her heart--she
would have trembled with the idea that he was about to fall down in a
fit of apoplexy. For as he realised who was the showily-dressed Malay
who had taken Helen Perowne in his arms, he first turned sallow with the
heart-sinking sensation consequent upon seeing his helpless charge in
the hands of one who, spite of his assumption of English manners and
customs, remained at heart a fierce and unscrupulous savage.
But the next moment the pallor passed away, his face flushed with rage,
and as his indignation increased, he became absolutely purple.
He made a furious struggle to escape from those who held him and get to
Helen's side; for in those angry moments his English blood was on fire,
and little, stout, short-winded, and pretty well exhausted by previous
efforts as he was, he forgot everything but the fact that there was a
helpless girl--an English lady--in deadly peril, and asking his aid.
Numbers--personal danger--his own want of weapons--all were forgotten;
and the little doctor would have attempted anything then that the
bravest hero could have ventured to save Helen Perowne from her captors.
But it was not to be: one man, however, brave, when left to his natural
strength of arm, is as nothing against a score; and literally foaming
now with rage, Doctor Bolter, as he was mastered by the Sultan's men,
had nothing left but his tongue for weapon, and this--let him receive
justice--he used to the best of his power while Murad remained on deck.
Dog, coward, reptile, contemptible villain, disgrace to humanity, fiend
in human form, scoundrel whom he would kick--these and scores of similar
opprobrious terms the doctor applied to the Rajah, making the crew of
the prahu scowl and mutter, and draw their krisses in a threatening
manner, as they looked at Murad for orders to slay the infidel dog who
dared revile their chief.
But in his calm triumph Murad stood gazing in a sneering irritating way
at the doctor, speaking no word, but seeming to say--so the doctor
interpreted it:
"Curse and rail as you will, I have won, and no words of yours can hurt
me."
"Will nothing move you, dog that you are?" cried the doctor. "Oh, if I
had but my liberty!" and his rage increased to such a pitch that his
anger approached the ridiculous, for, failing English terms, he turned
round and swore at the Rajah in Latin, in French, and finally rolled out
a series of ponderous German oaths garnished with many-syllabled
adjectives.
Murad seemed moved at last, and after calmly walking to and fro the
bamboo deck, he suddenly turned upon the doctor.
"Silence, English dog!" he hissed; "or my men shall kris you, and throw
you out!"
"Dog yourself!" roared the doctor. "Oh! if I had you sick in bed for
twenty-four hours! I'd--"
"Silence!" roared Murad, fiercely, for he noted the ominous looks of his
men, and felt that if he did not resent these insults he would be losing
caste amongst them; and as he spoke he struck the doctor--bound and
helpless as he was as to his hands, and held by a couple of the prahu's
crew--a violent blow across the mouth.
The doctor's lip was cut, and the blood trickled down his chin as the
Rajah turned contemptuously from him, and then staggered head first, and
finally fell prone upon his face. For it was the only retaliation in
Doctor Bolter's power, and he took it: as the Rajah turned, the doctor
threw all the strength he had left into one tremendous kick, as a
scoundrel should be kicked, and the above was the result.
Furious with rage the Rajah struggled to his feet, whipped out his kris
and dashed at the prisoner; but just then there was a warning shout, and
a small sampan that had been coming rapidly down-stream hitched on to
the prahu, and one of the occupants climbed on board.
He ran to the Rajah, and said something in a low voice which made Murad
turn colour; and hastily thrusting his kris back in its sheath, he began
to issue orders to his crew.
"I'm glad he didn't kill me," muttered the doctor; "I'm glad for Mary's
sake; but I'm not sorry I kicked the villain all the same. What are
they about to do now?"
He soon learned, for the Sultan's orders resulted in the prahu's crew
imitating his boatmen's manoeuvre, running her close into the bank and
under the shelter of the broad, overhanging boughs, the place being so
well suited that even the large naga was entirely concealed.
As soon as these plans were being carried out, the doctor had been
hurried--in spite of some resistance--into the after-part of the boat,
where he was roughly thrown down upon the deck; but he knew from what
was being done that help must be close at hand--and help of a
substantial nature, or else the occupants of this large and well-armed
craft would not have hidden and left the river clear.
"Perhaps," he thought, "it may be meant as an ambush, and some of our
friends are running the risk of capture."
He felt lightened though at heart, and lay perfectly still--not in
obedience to his captors, but to listen as he gazed straight up at the
leaves and boughs above his head.
The time went on, and from being red hot with passion the doctor began
to cool down; his heart had ceased to bound, and the burning sensation
in his temples became less painful. He wondered where they had placed
Helen, then whether there was any boat coming down the river; and at
last, so still was everybody, so silent the leafy arcade, that the
doctor's natural history proclivities began to be even then aroused.
For as he lay there upon his back, first one and then another brilliant
fly came and darted about through the network of sunrays; while soon
after there was a beautiful bird perched upon a twig not ten feet from
his face, where he could see the varied tinting of its feathers. Then,
as it flew off, he saw what had alarmed it, and that it was not the crew
of the boat, but first one and then another, till there were quite half
a dozen monkeys of an extremely rare kind climbing and playing about in
the branches of one of the biggest trees. Then came close to him a
wonderfully-tinted parroquet, and then a lustrous sunbird began to dart
about in an open space.
"If I only had my gun," muttered the enthusiast; and then he was
listening intently to the beat of oars.
The doctor's thoughts were interrupted the next moment by some one
kneeling down beside him, and he saw the gleaming eyes and white teeth
of Murad, who drew the doctor's attention to a bare kris which he held
in his hand, and then pointed at his prisoner.
"Look!" he whispered; "if you make a sound while that boat goes by, I
shall kill you as I would a dog!"
"Thankye," said the doctor, quietly; and he lay still thinking.
There was help coming--help for him and for the poor girl whom he had
sworn to protect. If he let that help go by he would be resigning Helen
Perowne to a fate worse than death; and growing enthusiastic as he
thought, he mused on, telling himself that he was an Englishman and very
brave, and that he'd die sooner than not make an effort to save the poor
girl in his charge.
Then he shuddered as he thought of death, and felt that he would like to
live longer at any cost, and that he dare not risk his life; but
directly after he began comforting himself with the idea that if matters
came to the worst, and he did call for help, the chances were great
against Murad striking him in a vital place.
"And I can cure a wound," he muttered; "and as to poison on those
krisses, it's an old woman's tale."
All this time the sound of the oars had come nearer and nearer, till to
the doctor they seemed to be just abreast.
But no; they were still coming nearer, and his heart began to beat
furiously, as, taking advantage of Murad's head being turned, the doctor
freed his hands from their bonds and then lay thinking.
Should he risk it? Should he give it up?
Life was very sweet. So was honour; and that poor girl had claimed his
protection.
"And how could I look her father in the face if I did not try my best to
save her?" he thought.
Still the sound of oars came nearer--_beat, beat--beat, beat_; and now
he knew that the boat must be nearly abreast--so plainly did the
plashing sound.
He looked up at Murad, who, kris in hand, was listening and watching
together. He glanced at the dull-hued wavy blade, and saw its keen
point and edge, thinking with a kind of curiosity how wide a wound it
would make in him as he recollected how many he had cured for the men
who had been in engagements; and then he asked the question again:
"Should he risk his life for Helen's sake?"
The sound of the oars was louder than ever; and now he knew that the
boat must be really abreast--and an English one too--otherwise why this
hiding and the Rajah's anxious look?
"Not only for Helen's sake, but as an Englishman's duty," he said to
himself; and he drew a long breath.
"_Help_!" he roared, "_help! boat ah_!"
He would have said "_Ahoy_!" but with a snarl like that of a wild cat,
Murad threw himself upon his prisoner, striking savagely at his breast
with the keen weapon, to pin him to the naga's bamboo deck.
But with the effort of a man striving to save his life, the doctor
managed to wrench himself a little on one side, and the keen kris passed
between his breast and arm as he seized the Rajah by the throat.
The struggle that followed was almost a matter of moments, before Doctor
Bolter went over the side, plunging down into deep water, and rising
outside the screen of leaves, to swim vigorously towards the English
boat, which was coming rapidly towards where the Rajah's naga lay.
A spear splashed into the water by the doctor's head, but the boughs
prevented the thrower from taking a good aim; and almost directly after
the swimmer was hauled on board, and the Rajah's naga was seen to be
trying to steal out some fifty yards ahead.
A call to surrender was answered by a shout of defiance, and the Malays
began to manfully ply their oars; but a volley from the soldiers' pieces
seemed to quell their ardour and to cause confusion, in the midst of
which the English boat dashed alongside, and Hilton, Chumbley, the
Resident, and a score of the soldiers poured over the side, driving the
spear-armed crew below, the Rajah going down from a cut over the
forehead from the Resident's sword.
The naga was mastered; and the doctor, hunting out where Helen had been
placed, she was soon afterwards sobbing in her father's arms.