One Maid's Mischief Part 101

"_Not_ much like the Helen Perowne of the past," he muttered, as he resumed his seat, after supplying his patient with water, and once more scanning the sides of the river for danger.

There was nothing to be seen, though, for they had descended now to where rocks had given place to jungle, and the banks were one impenetrable ma.s.s of creeper-enlaced trees, the monotony being hardly enlivened now by the sight of a bird.

"Look!--look!" whispered Helen, suddenly. "That is where they took me from the boat!" and she pointed to an opening in the jungle, the doctor recognising the spot which he had noticed as they came up the river, and here was where the prahu had turned.

"There is a house inland from here, then?" said the doctor.

Helen shuddered.

"Yes," she said, faintly; "my prison. I cannot bear to talk about it now."

The doctor nodded: and feeling that this was the critical part of the journey, he bade the Malays eat and drink as they paddled on, so as to gain strength for any energetic push they might have to make. For his own part he was decided enough as to the course he would pursue, meaning to trust to flight if possible, but if pursued he vowed to himself that he would fire upon his pursuers.

"And I am an Englishman!" he said to himself, proudly. "They dare not fire upon me!"

"Double pay if you get us safely back to the station," he said, "and in quicker time."

The boatmen nodded and smiled, toiled harder with their paddles, and they were half-way back to the great river at least, when plainly heard upon the still afternoon air, came the loud beat of the many oars of a great prahu.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

PREPARING FOR A START.

"Now look here, boy," said Chumbley. "I grant the possibility of the Inche Maida having a.s.sisted in carrying off Helen, but we do not know that she did. What we do know is--"

"That she confessed--"

"Not to helping, or anything of the kind. She told us that she was another man's wife by now."

"Well, that shows that she was cognisant of the matter; and I say that we ought to make a clean breast of the affair."

"Well, I'm such a pusillanimous coward, that I can't screw myself up to doing anything of the kind. One can't help feeling foolish over the matter. Hang it all, no, keep it quiet! We are in an out-of-the-way place certainly; but this is an awfully small marble of a world, and if we tell our story, it would get into the _Straits Times_, and from that into the Calcutta papers; and once there, the t.i.t-bit of two officers being carried off by a wicked Eastern princess will soon run over to England, and go the round of the press. Why, hang it, man, we had better retire from the service!"

Hilton stood leaning half out of the window of their quarters listening to his friend.

"It would be awkward," he said.

"Awkward's nothing to it, my dear boy. And besides, you know what comes about if we make all known. Harley will consider that he is in duty bound to arrest the Inche Maida, or something of the kind, and then look at the consequences!"

"But the woman ought to be punished."

"Yes, of course; but the punishment is coming. You see by her act she has shut herself out from all connection with the station, and I daresay if the truth is known she has collected her valuables and fled."

"I hope she has," replied Hilton, "for if steps are taken to arrest her, I should be, I confess, sorry for her to be caught."

"Let it slide then," cried Chumbley; "we can't war against a woman.

Come, you'll oblige me, old fellow, greatly, by giving way."

"What do you want me to do then?"

"A little ill that good may come: keep to our story of having been seized and not knowing where we were taken."

Hilton nodded and looked thoughtful.

"You give way then?"

"Yes, I give way."

"Hilton, old fellow, I'm much obliged. I know we shall have, perhaps, to do a little bit of invention, but it is invention to save a woman, and there is a lot of truth in it. Then, too, see how it saves us."

"Still, I can't help thinking that, if she had anything to do with carrying off Helen Perowne, she ought to be punished; and mind this, though I care nothing for Helen now, if it proves afterwards that she helped in that cruel affair, I'll have no mercy upon her."

"She had nothing to do with it, take my word," said Chumbley, who had grown so excited that he forgot to drawl. "Here's the case, depend upon it. She got to know that Murad meant to carry off Helen, and she thought that she would do the same by you."

"Wretched creature!"

"Say silly child," said Chumbley. "These people have half of them the cleverness and weak, petty ways of children combined."

"Then you feel certain that Murad alone carried off Helen?"

"I lay a hundred to one he has. Harley's right. When do we start?"

"In an hour's time. The scoundrel has not been seen by any of his people in Sindang, so they say."

"We shall have some warm work up there in the jungle."

"No doubt of it; but we'll rout the serpent out--Oh, here is Harley!"

The Resident was coming up hastily from the landing-stage, followed by a couple of soldiers leading a Malay between them.

"A prisoner, eh?" said Chumbley. "Well, his evidence will have to be taken with a pinch of salt. Now, Harley, what's the news?"

"This fellow has come, saying that he bears an important message. I would not hear him till I had you two present."

They went out into the veranda, took seats, and the man salaamed, and was asked his business.

He said that he had been charged with a message to the Resident by one of the Rajah's women. It was to tell him that the lady Helen had been taken up the river to the Rajah's shooting-house, and was kept there against her will.

"Are you sure of this," said the Resident, hoa.r.s.ely. "I have said,"

replied the man, with dignity. "Have you seen her there?"

"Once only, master. She is kept shut closely up."

"And when did you get this message?"

"It is nearly thirty days ago, master."