I worried and fretted a great deal about that proposal of the rajah's,
but I firmly declared that it was quite impossible, however tempting to
my vanity. How could I become officer over a set of cowardly, mutinous,
murderous scoundrels, even if I had been set free to undertake the task;
and in my most bitter times I told myself that I would far rather turn
the guns upon such a crew than teach them to work them.
I fully expected the rajah to come to me the next day, but he did not,
and a week had gone by, during which time, although I was growing
stronger, it was not so fast as it would have been had I felt free.
And then came a night when I was very low indeed. The monotony of my
life in that solitary place affected my spirits terribly. They were
already weak enough, consequent upon my hurts; but that time I was so
depressed that I prayed that the rajah might not come, lest I should
accept his proposal as a means of escape from a life which, in spite of
the constant attention I received, had grown unbearable. It made me so
irritable to the attendants that they shrank from coming near more often
than they could help, and I saw Salaman look at me sometimes as if he
thought that I should develop into a tyrant also, or would be a danger
to those who served.
"I know what it is," I muttered to myself that night. "He is waiting on
purpose so as to catch me in some weak moment, when I am utterly tired
out of this wretched prison, and ready to say yes."
My wretched prison, be it remembered, was a luxurious tent, with men who
were like so many slaves about me ready to obey my slightest wish; but I
was miserable, of course, all the same.
It had grown dark rapidly that evening, and there was a curious
sensation of heat in the air, great puffs coming as if from off heated
metal. Then there were distant flashes of lightning, and faint
mutterings which I knew portended a storm; and, as it drew near, I felt
a kind of satisfaction in wishing that it would be very bad, for I was
just in the frame of mind, no doubt from being weak and easily affected
by the electricity in the atmosphere, to welcome anything for a change.
"I hope it will come a regular roarer," I said to myself as I lay on my
back with my wounds aching, and the faint blue of the lightning making
my lamp look dim.
"Wish it would blow the tents all down, and scare the black scoundrels
right away."
A sensible wish, for in my weak state it meant exposure, a drenching,
and probably a feverish attack; but I was in an unreasoning fit, and
ready for anything absurd just then.
After a time, there was the rush of wind through the trees, and the side
of the tent flapped like a filling sail on board ship.
"It's coming," I said, with a laugh; and then I thought of the torrents
of rain that would now begin to fall, and called to mind that twice over
there had been very heavy rains, but that the double canvas roof had
turned it all away.
Then there was a lull, followed by a pattering of rain, and I heard the
men go round and tighten the cords, while Salaman came in and secured
the tent door, pausing to ask me if he should bring me anything, but I
was too ill-tempered to answer him, and I suppose he thought I was
asleep, for he went out very softly.
Then, with a rush, down came the storm, with the water rushing in
sheets, and beating against the tent, off which I could hear it
streaming, while it was lit up almost constantly by the blue glare of
the lightning. Next came the thunder, deafening roar after roar, to
which I listened with satisfaction, for it was a change.
But the change soon grew as monotonous as my prison life. The rain
poured down, there were fierce rushes of wind, blinding flashes of
lightning, and deafening peals of thunder; but the tents were not blown
down, they were too well sheltered by the huge trees around, and as the
rain brought a feeling of coolness, I began to grow more sensible, and
to feel glad that no catastrophe had happened. I must have dropped
asleep, to wake up with a start and the recollection of my visitation
from the serpents. I could see nothing, and my heart seemed to cease
beating as I recalled the habits of the creatures, how, drowned out of
their holes by such a storm, they would seek shelter in houses, and here
was one wet, cold creature with its head playing over my face, and from
there gliding down my arm to my hand, which it seized, the jaws closing
upon my fingers while I lay, unable in my horror to call for help.
Then my confusion and horror mingled passed off, and a curious sensation
of exultation came over me, for it was all fancy about the serpent. The
lamp was out, the tent in total darkness, and that which I had felt was
a hand gliding over my face, and from thence to my hand, into which it
had pressed something.
At that moment I heard a rustling to my left, and sounds to my right,
the tent door was thrown open, and I could just make out the figure of
Salaman, as he uttered an ejaculation at the darkness, and hurried
across to the stand, where he paused to strike a light, the lamp having
by some accident gone out.
The light of the match he had struck illuminated the tent, and I glanced
sharply round, but no one else was visible; and as I lay wondering, and
ready to believe it all fancy, there was what felt like a note crushed
in my hand, and Salaman was busy about the tent.
"Is my lord asleep?" he said softly.
"No," I replied.
"When my lord wishes the lamp to be turned out, so that he may look at
the lightning, if he calls his servant will come."
"Yes; thank you," I said. And then I lay thinking, my heart thumping
heavily the while.
Somebody--a friend, then--had crept into the tent and turned out the
lamp, before trying to give me the note.
But was it a note?
It felt like it, as I held it tightly in my hand, longing now for the
man to go, but afraid to say a word to send him away, for fear I should
raise his suspicions in the slightest degree, and induce him to rouse
his companions and watch, or go round the tent at a time when I felt
sure that the bearer of the note was hiding just outside.
Oh, how long it seemed, and what a number of petty, trifling little
things Salaman did before he moved toward the doorway of the tent!
I do not think he did more than was his custom; but this time I fancied
he suspected something wrong, and was watching me.
I was quite right. He was watching me intently; and I turned hot and
trembled, for it would be horrible, I felt, if help was near, to have it
discovered by this man, who was thoroughly devoted to the rajah's
interests, and who would, I felt sure, have to answer with his head if I
escaped through his neglect.
He came nearer to me, and I was afraid he would read the anxiety in my
face; and yet I dared not turn it round and away from him, for fear of
making him suspect me more, so I lay gazing straight at him.
"Would my lord like a cool drink?" he asked.
"No," I replied; "not now."
"My lord's voice is changed!" he cried excitedly. "He is not worse?"
"Oh no;--better," I said.
"But my lord speaks strangely--as he did that night when the serpent
crawled into the room. He has not been alarmed? Yes, I know--by the
terrible storm."
"Think--think it was that?" I faltered.
"Yes, my lord," he said eagerly; "but it is gone now. Can I get
anything for my lord?"
"No; not now," I said. And at last he left the tent.
I was lord and master, according to Salaman; but I felt quite a slave as
I lay there, afraid to move lest he should come back. And as I
listened, I heard him go round the tent to try all the ropes, two others
being with him, as I judged by the voices. While they went quietly
round, I listened with eager ear, fully expecting some alarm to be
raised, and my messenger, whoever he was, to be discovered.
But I heard the men go right round, and return to their own tent; and
then, as soon as I felt it to be safe, I crawled from my couch and made
my way to the lamp, trembling with eagerness to read the message that
had been sent, I hoped, by Brace.
The paper was a mere scrap doubled up quite small, and, as I opened it,
and held it close to the light, my eyes fell on these characters,
scrawled in a very feeble hand, with some kind of pencil which left a
very uncertain mark--
There were faint traces of similar lines above and below, but they were
so rubbed as to be undecipherable; while, as to the above, fancy my
chagrin and disappointment as I turned the paper over, then back, and
scanned the crabbed shorthand-like characters over and over again, but
only to grow more and more confused, for I could make no sense of it
whatever. Even if the upper and lower lines had been plain, I am afraid
that I should have been no wiser. Certainly I had gone through a long
study of the Eastern languages, and this bore a strong resemblance to
some of the characters; but what it meant, I had no more idea than a
babe.
I remained by the lamp, puzzling over that scrap of paper till my brain
began to swim; and at last, wearied out, and in utter despair, I went
back to my couch and threw myself down, to lie and think. And all the
time I knew that this might be a message bidding me be quite ready, for
an effort was to be made, perhaps that very night, to rescue me and
restore me to my friends.
That it must be something of the kind, I had no doubt; but how foolish
it seemed to be of Brace to trust another to write his message! He
might have anticipated that it would be badly written.
But perhaps it was not Brace's doing, and it might be a communication
from some friendly chief.
At any rate, I could not make it out, and there was nothing to be done
but keep on the _qui vive_, and wait for what was to come. For that
something would result from the missive I was sure, but what it would be
I could only imagine; and my mind played strange pranks, possibly
because I was still so weak.