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"That's very prettily done, my dears," said Bob; "but you are both of you horribly in the way if we should shoot, and it isn't the fashion in England. Place aux Messieurs in a case like this. There, you stand behind me."
He gently placed the girl behind him, keeping his gun the while pointed at the Malays, and Tom Long followed his example.
"Shall we shoot, Bob Roberts?" said the ensign, hoa.r.s.ely.
"No," said Bob, whose voice sounded just as hoa.r.s.e. "Not unless they try to do us mischief. This is the time for a strategical retreat, as they are three to one, and we may at any time be cut off. I say, Tom, I feel in such a horrible state of squirm; don't you?"
"Never was so frightened in my life," replied Tom, "but pray don't show it."
"Show it?" replied Bob sharply; "hang 'em, no; they should cut me to pieces first. But I say, old fellow, I never thought I was such a coward before."
"More did I," replied Tom. "Suppose they understand what we're saying!"
"Not they; no more than we can them. I say, I have it! These are two slaves trying to escape, and these chaps want to get them back."
"Then we'll take them right away to the fort," cried Tom. "Look out!"
he added, as, after speaking to his followers, the chief Malay made another angry advance with the men.
"Now look here, Mr Cafe-au-lait," said Bob, raising his gun this time to his shoulder, as he spoke aloud, "if you don't sheer off, I'll let fly at you a regular broadside. Be ready, Tom."
"Ready!" was the sharp reply, "when you say Fire."
"Right," replied Bob. "Now then, old check-petticoat, are you going to call off your men?"
For answer the Malay pointed to the two trembling girls, and signed to his men to advance with their spears.
"I'm horribly alarmed, Tom!" cried Bob, "but retreating now is showing the white feather, and we shall be whopped. Now then, don't fire, but let's make a dash at them."
The Malays were only about three yards off, having before retreated five or six, but now they had diminished the distance, when the two lads, with their pieces at their shoulders, stepped boldly forward, with the result that the Malays broke and fled, their leader first; and out of bravado Tom Long fired a shot over their heads to quicken their steps, while Bob burst into a hearty fit of laughter.
"Look here!" he said. "Here's a game! Only look, sojer!"
"What is it!" cried Tom, drawing out the empty cartridge case and putting in a new one. "Why, you don't mean to say--"
"But I just do mean to say it!" cried Bob, stamping about and laughing as he opened the breech of his gun, and drew out two empty cases, to replace with full.
"Not loaded!"
"No," cried Bob, "That moment, you know, I shot at the snipes, and hadn't time to load again. Did you ever see such a game, keeping those chaps off with an empty gun? Oh, I say, don't!"
This last was in consequence of the energetic action taken by the two poor girls, who, seeing themselves now safe, began to demonstrate their grat.i.tude by hysterical cries and sobs, seizing and kissing the lads'
hands, and finally placing their arms round them and kissing their cheeks.
"Oh, this is awful!" cried Tom Long, who was blushing like a girl.
"I shall be compelled to tell my mamma!" said Bob. "There, there, it's all right. Come, give me your hand, Semiramis, or Cleopatra, or whatever your name is, and let us make haste down to the river before it is too late."
The girl seemed to understand him, and ceased sobbing as she prepared to continue the flight, the other clinging to Tom Long's left hand.
"I say, though, let's have the birds," said Bob, stooping to pick them up; but the girl s.n.a.t.c.hed them from him, to carry them herself.
"Yes, Tom, old fellow; no doubt about it, they're slaves. Come along, or we shall be cut off. It's not polite to let the ladies carry the baggage, but as we are the escort we must be prepared to fight."
"I say!" cried Tom Long, "do you know the way?"
"Not I," said Bob; "don't you?"
"Not the ghost of an idea!" cried Tom.
The girls were watching them, and evidently in a state of great excitement were trying to comprehend their words; but as soon as they saw their indecision, and their bold start off in the direction they imagined to be correct, then the slave girls understood their dilemma and stopped them, gesticulating and shaking their heads as they pointed in a quite fresh direction.
"They know where the ship lies, see if they don't," said Bob. "Let's trust them."
"But suppose they lead us wrong?" replied Tom.
"Not they," cried Bob. "They'll lead us right away. Come along, my fair specimens of chocolate a vanille; and the sooner we are safe under the British flag, the better I shall like it."
The girls started off at a sharp walk, and then made signs that they should run.
"All right," said Bob, nodding his head. "Double there, in the infantry brigade! Naval brigade to the front! Forward!"
He broke into a trot, and the little party ran sharply on, to the great delight of the two escaped slaves, who, as Bob had prophesied, led them straight away to the side of the river, which they reached without encountering a soul.
"I'm about knocked up," said Bob, panting. "It's disgusting to find these girls can beat us hollow at running."
"The doctor's specimens are all shaken up into a regular mash!" said Tom Long, peeping into the vasculum hung by a strap from his shoulder.
"Never mind," replied Bob. "Here's the boat coming. I shall come with you straight; or no: let's take them on board the 'Startler'?"
"No, no!" said Tom, "they must come to the fort."
"No, no, to the 'Startler,' I tell you."
"No, no, to the fort."
"Then we'll split the difference, and take them to the residency," said Bob; and as the boat touched the sh.o.r.e they stood back for the girls to leap in, and then crouch down with their arms around each other's neck, sobbing with joy as they felt that now they were safe.
There was no little excitement as the two girls were landed, and Mr Linton seemed puzzled as to what he should do; but the poor creatures were safe now under the protection of the British flag; and Bob Roberts and Tom Long proceeded to the doctor's quarters for a thorough wash and change, having fully verified old d.i.c.k's prophecy that they would be in mischief before the day was out.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
HOW THE TWO COMPANIONS WERE KNOCKED OFF THEIR PERCH.
If they had not been English, the probabilities are that Bob Roberts and Tom Long would have hugged each other. As it was they seemed to think it quite the correct thing to shake hands over and over again, and then walk up and down under the palm-trees of the enclosure, flushed, excited, and as full of swagger as they could possibly be.
"Blest if they don't look like a couple o' young game c.o.c.ks who have just killed their birds," said old d.i.c.k to Billy Mustard. "My word, they are c.o.c.ky! But where are you going, old man?"