"Come up here, Driscol," said the doctor; and as Tim appeared Frank came
to the inner doorway to creep into a corner, where he was in shadow, and
could listen to what was said.
"Now, Braine," said the doctor. "We are all waiting, what do you
propose?"
"I have nothing to propose. We have a guard of sixteen outside. If we
could get by them, we might reach the river in the darkness. Can you
tell me how to proceed?" The doctor was silent. "Frank, can you
suggest anything?"
"No, father; only to fight."
"Madness, boy. Help would come directly."
"I have an idea," said the doctor, "if it would act. I should do it
unwillingly, but it is our only hope that I see. Stop!--Driscol, can
you help us?"
"Sure, I've been thinking hard, sor, and all I can get hold of is one
idaya, and that's as shlippery as an oysther out of its shell."
"Speak, man, what is it?"
"To wait a bit, and thin go round wid a thick shtick and bate all their
heads."
"Oh, nonsense!" cried Mr Braine.
"That's what I said to meself, sor, for I saw while I was quieting one,
he would make a noise, and--ye see if I could hit all their heads at
wance."
"Hush! silence!" said the doctor. "Braine, the only thing I can propose
is to fill a vessel with wine and--drug it."
"No," said Mr Braine, sternly. "For one thing they are Mussulmans, and
it is forbidden; some would not drink. For another--"
"They'd be suspicious, and would not touch it," said Frank, quickly.
"Quite right, Frank," said his father.
"Then if I medicated some cigars," whispered the doctor.
"Oh, then," said Frank, "they'd roll them in the waists of their
sarongs, and save them to cut up and smoke in their hubble-bubbles
to-morrow."
"Yes; it is hopeless," said the doctor, despondently; and there was a
long silence broken by Tim.
"Whisht! masther dear," he said, "would the rat poison taste much?"
"Poison? No. Who said a word about poison? I should only send them to
sleep."
"Oh!" said Tim, "a short slape; not the very long one. Would it taste,
sor?"
"No, my man; why?"
"Thin, bedad, I have it. Ye nivver touched the shmall cakes for dinner:
put some of the stuff into thim, and I'll shtale out with a whole
trayful and a bottle of wine from down below, jist as if it's me being
civil to the bastes, and I'll offer 'em the wine, and they won't touch
it, but I will, and dhrink of it heartily. They won't think there's
anny desait in it then, and I'll offer 'em the cakes, and ate a shpare
one or two that I'll kape on one side."
"Tim, you're a scoundrel!" cried Mr Braine, excitedly.
"Sure, that's what my mother always said, sor," replied Tim, modestly;
"but, masther dear, ye wouldn't put any rat poi--shlaping stuff, I mane,
into the wine."
"And rob ourselves of our right hand?" said the doctor, warmly. "No!"
"Thank ye, sor," said Tim. "I thought I'd say that, for ye may remimber
once making a mistake, and nearly cut off your right hand--I mane
meself."
"It was not a mistake, Tim, but an experiment with one of the native
medicines."
"Faix, it just was, sor, and I'll niver forget it. But ye'll look
loively, sor. There's plinty of the little cakes iv Masther Frank
didn't ate thim all."
"I did not touch them, Tim," said Frank, eagerly.
"Then the day's our own, sor. You come down and docthor 'em, and I'll
go and prepare the syle for the sade."
"What are you going to do?" said Mr Braine, quickly.
"Only shmoke me poipe in the gyarden, sor, and soother and blarney them
over a bit. It'll kim aisier, thin, to go in and fetch a bit and sup
from the panthry, and not be so suddint like. They're such desayving
thayves of the world, they suspect everybody."
Tim went down, and the doctor busied himself at a medicine-chest for a
few minutes before following him.
"Now, Greig, help me," said the Resident, turning down the lamps a
little. "Frank, keep out of sight in case we are watched. You know
where the doctor keeps his ammunition."
"Yes, father," was the reply, and the pair busied themselves in
examining revolvers and guns, placing ammunition ready for flight, and
finally arming the ladies, and thrusting an ornamental kris from the
walls into their belts.
Then weapons were placed ready for the doctor and his man, their
arrangements being about complete as the former returned looking pale
and anxious.
"Ah," he said, on seeing the preparations, "that's right. It's hard to
leave all our treasures and collections."
"Yes; but we must think only of ourselves."
"Of our wives and children," said Greig, quietly.
"Yes. But, tell me, what have you done?"
"Put a strong opiate in every cake."
"But those who take it--does it mean risk to their lives?"
"No. The worst that can happen may be a day or two's illness after.
That is not what I fear," said the doctor, significantly.
"What then?"
"The rajah's punishment of the poor wretches."
"Hah!" ejaculated Mr Braine, "but we must be selfish here for others'
sake."
A few more preparations were made by Frank's suggestion, every scrap of
food from below being placed in a couple of baskets; the two women who
assisted Tim in the house having gone for the night some time before.
"Now," said the doctor, "what next? Matches and a lantern."
These were placed ready; a few comforting words said to the ladies--who
were now calm, firm, and helpful, looking strangely Malayan in their
garb, for they had trenched upon a store which, they had saved up as
mementoes of their sojourn in the jungle--and then all sat down to
listen and wait, the strange forest sounds coming faintly to their ears,
mingled with the occasional mutterings of their guard.