One Maid's Mischief Part 112

"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 p.r.o.ne 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 pa.s.sion 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 l.u.s.trous sunbird began to dart about in an open s.p.a.ce.

"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 pa.s.sed 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.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

THE RETURN TO SINDANG.

For a time no one spoke in the doctor's cottage; but old Stuart took a very large and a very loud pinch of snuff, which seemed as if he had been loading his nose with powder, for it went off directly after with a report-like sneeze that made the jalousies rattle.

"Is--is this--these words--are they true?" said Mrs Bolter, at last, with unnatural calmness.

"Yes, yes, my dear, quite true!" cried Mrs Barlow, excitedly.

"Did--did you hear anything of this, Mr Stuart?" said Mrs Bolter, in a low, constrained voice.

"Well, I did hear--am I to tell you?"

"Yes--everything," replied Mrs Bolter, now perfectly cool and calm.

"I heard that the doctor had been found up the river somewhere with a black lady in his boat; but I didn't hear it was the Inche Maida."

"But my heart told me it was," muttered poor little Mrs Bolter, whose good resolutions were all swept away by her agonising feeling of jealousy. Then aloud, with a fierce look of anger, but speaking in quite a hoa.r.s.e whisper, "Go!" she said, pointing to the door. "You wicked woman, go! You have taken delight in coming to tell me this!"

"No, no!" cried Mrs Barlow, bursting into tears; "it was from friendship--from the sisterly love I have for you! It was for your brother's sake!"

"If--if ever my brother returns, he shall never speak to you--bad, weak, wicked woman that you are! Leave my house!"