One Maid's Mischief Part 123

There was the chance of the prisoner returning, but it hardly seemed probable; and after some hours waiting, it was decided to return to the boat, to pa.s.s the night there, and return the next day.

The tramp back seemed harder than the advance; but they persevered, and at last, soaked with perspiration and utterly wearied out, they came in sight of the lagoon head, where Chumbley uttered a sigh of satisfaction.

"I wonder what's for dinner," he said. "Eh?"

He turned sharply, for Yusuf uttered an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, and stood pointing to where, seated in an opening and leaning against a tree, was the figure of a man, ragged, unshorn, and looking the picture of misery.

"Hurrah?" shouted Chumbley, dashing forward, the doctor panting after him; but the figure did not move, seeming to be asleep with its head drooped forward upon its breast.

"Rosebury!" cried Chumbley--"Rosebury!" but there was no reply.

"Arthur!" cried the doctor, sinking on one knee beside the haggard, hollow-cheeked figure, and changing the position so that its head rested upon his arm.

"Dead?" whispered Chumbley, in awe-stricken tones.

"He would have been in an hour!" cried the doctor. "Quick! your flask.

There, that will do--a few drops with water. That's right. Now soak a biscuit well. Crumble it up, man--quick, in the cup."

A few drops at a time were poured between the parched lips, and as Arthur Rosebury showed signs of revival, a little of the soaked biscuit was administered; while Yusuf and Ismael rapidly cut down gra.s.s and contrived a rough bed, upon which the suffering man was laid.

"Is it fever?" said Chumbley, gazing down at the hollow cheeks and wild, staring eyes that had not a spark of recognition therein.

"The fever that men have who are starving," cried the doctor. "Poor fellow! he has not had food for a week."

It was after three days' camping out beside the boat in a rough shanty which the Malays built up, that the Reverend Arthur Rosebury came round sufficiently to be able to recognise and talk to his friends.

"It's fortunate for you, old fellow, that you had a doctor to find you,"

said Bolter. "For--I say it without boasting--if I had not been with Chumbley, you would never have seen Sindang again."

"And shall I now?" was said in a feeble voice.

"To be sure you will, and the sooner the better," said the doctor. "I want more nourishing food for you, so we'll make up a couch in the stern of the boat, and then get on towards home."

"I'll try and bear being moved," he said feebly, "but--but--but--"

"But what?" said the doctor, quietly. "There, don't worry. I see. You have forgotten what you wanted to say. It will come again. Shut your eyes and go to sleep."

Arthur Rosebury was so pitifully weak that he was ready to obey anybody; and he sank back and seemed to go to sleep at once with the doctor and Chumbley seated by his side.

"I want some explanation of all this," said Chumbley, in his drawling way.

"So do I," said the doctor; "but we must wait, my dear boy. He's as weak as water, and I can't trouble him with questions. You see, his brain is affected by his bodily want of tone; but it will soon come right if we are patient."

It seemed to the chaplain as if he had not been asleep when he awoke five hours later, and looking at the doctor he went on where he ceased before dozing off; but this time he did not forget.

"Where is Helen Perowne?" he asked.

"Safe at home," replied the doctor.

"That is well," said the chaplain. "I have been troubled by a dreamy idea that she was carried off when I was by the Malays, and that I was kept to marry Helen to someone else."

"What someone else?" said the doctor.

"I fancied it was Murad," said the chaplain, feebly; "but my head _is_ confused and strange. What of Mary?"

"Quite well, and anxious to see you again. There, lie back, and we will lift you in this waterproof sheet so gently that you will hardly know you have been moved."

The chaplain lay back, and seemed to drop asleep again as he was lifted into the boat, which put off at once; and in high spirits with the successful termination of their quest, the Malays worked well, and sent the sampan skimming over the still waters of the lagoon.

They did not cease poling and paddling all night, and halted at last to land, after catching some fish, which, when broiled, made a good addition to the biscuits and coffee.

The chaplain ate heartily, and seemed to enjoy the warm sunshine as they went on again over the sparkling waters of the lake. He talked, too, and asked Chumbley to sit by him, but seemed to have very little memory, till all at once he cried, in a piteous tone:

"My specimens!--my specimens! We must not leave them behind!"

The doctor took off his hat and rubbed his head, for his feelings were quite with the chaplain; but to go back and land, and search the house in the jungle, meant over a day's work, and he said, decidedly:

"No: it is impossible to go now!"

"But they are the work of weeks and months of labour!" protested the chaplain. "If you had only seen them!"

"My dear Arthur, I have seen them," said the doctor. "They will not hurt, and as soon as you are well again we will fetch them."

The chaplain sank back in his place with a sigh; and as the journey was continued he told his friends of his long imprisonment, and of how, as a resource, he had settled down to botanising.

This had gone on steadily, till about a fortnight back, when he noticed that his guards were whispering together a good deal, and that evening he missed them, and no meal was prepared.

The next day no one was visible, and he found what provision there was, and did the best he could, and so on the next day, when, finding that he was regularly deserted, he made up his mind to escape, and started off, following the track that led from the house, to find that it ended by a little river.

There was no possibility of getting to right or left, to follow the stream, on account of the jungle, and after a weary day he was glad to go back to his prison and sleep.

The following days were taken up in efforts to find a path that would lead to some inhabited place, but the efforts were in vain; and though he sought constantly, he could not retrace his steps to the house where he had seen the Malay lady trying to get away. Everywhere it was jungle--a wilderness of jungle--and the only possibility of escape was by one of the streams, or by way of the lagoon, which he had discovered in his botanical wanderings.

He had no boat, nor the ingenuity to contrive one. To have attempted to wade down a stream meant courting death by the reptiles; so the chaplain's many wanderings in the wilderness took him over the same ground day after day, and always back to his prison.

Then the scant supply of provision was exhausted; there was no fruit to be found; he had no gun, and could contrive no means of capturing fish; and the result was that, growing weaker day by day, and more helpless, he realised how safe was the prison in the jungle in which he had been shut up; and at last sat down, to gradually sink into a stupor, from which, but for the coming of his friends, he would never have recovered.

Even when he was taken in safety to the landing-stage, he was too feeble to walk, and fainted as he was carried to his brother-in-law's house.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

AMOK!

Singapore on a sunny day, looking bright, attractive, even wonderful to stranger eyes. Ships of all nations in the harbour, with sailors from Europe, from America, from the ports about the Red Sea, from India, China, and j.a.pan.

A wonderful polyglot a.s.sembly rubbing shoulders in the street: Jack in his white duck frock, straw, and loose trousers, staring at John Chinaman, with his blue cotton garments, pith-soled shoes, and pigtail reaching almost to the ground. Swarthy Dyaks, Papuans, Bugis, and Malays pure and Malays mongrel from the many islands of the Eastern seas, every opalescent-eyed, swarthy savage wearing his kris. British soldiers mingled with the native police in their puggrees; and busy English merchants, and many Scotch, hurried with the varied races on their way to and from their places of business.