Chumbley shook the hand stretched out to him, and smiled as he looked curiously at their visitor, for slow of movement as he was, he was quick of apprehension, and he did not place his companion's interpretation upon the meeting.

"I hope you were not hurt, Mr Chumbley," she said.

"Oh, but we were," cried Hilton, quickly, and before his friend could speak. "We were seized and dragged here by a pack of scoundrels who did not spare us much."

"Ah, yes, I have just come," she said. "I heard that you both fought very hard, like the brave, strong Englishmen you are, and some of the men were hurt, and badly too."

"Chumbley there did his best," said Hilton, "of course; but by whose orders was this done? You can tell me, I hope."

"Yes," drawled Chumbley, drily, "the Princess can tell you, I should say."

"Yes," said the Princess, smiling from one to the other. "You were brought here to this my hunting-home in the jungle by my orders, but no violence was to be used."

"By your orders!" cried Hilton, dropping her hand as if it had burned him, and falling back a step, with the anger flashing from his eyes.

"The Princess tells you it is her hunting-box," drawled Chumbley, drily; "she evidently meant to give us a surprise."

"Be silent, Chumbley," said Hilton, indignantly.

"Her highness was afraid that we might not get leave of absence, or that we should decline to come," continued Chumbley.

"Oh, this is too much!" cried Hilton.

"Do not be angry," said the Princess, speaking in a low, sweet tone, full of pleading tenderness. "I know it seems strange to you English people, but our ways are different to yours."

"Well, yes: a little," said Chumbley, who was laughing in a quiet internal way. "You have studied some of our etiquette, but you did not find this sort of thing."

"Will you be silent, Chumbley?" thundered Hilton, indignantly.

"Did you not hear me?" said the Princess; and Chumbley noted that there was a very tender look in her eyes as she advanced and laid her hand upon Hilton's arm. "I asked you not to be angry with me."

"Angry?" cried Hilton, fiercely. "Angry? Why, madam, this is the act of some mad savage, and you professed to be a civilised friend!"

"It is the act, sir, of a princess!" said the Inche Maida with dignity.

"One who is as a queen among her people!"

"And do you profess, madam, to be a friend of the English?"

"Yes, Captain Hilton, I have sought to be as far as I could."

"Will you not sit down?" said Chumbley, pointing to the heap of cushions close at hand.

"Not while my guests are standing," she said, with dignity. "Are you going to scold me and be angry too, Mr Chumbley?" she said, with a smile.

"Englishmen boast of being fair," he replied. "If I scold it shall be when my friend has done."

"Oh! I have done for the present!" said Hilton, with a mocking laugh.

"Pray go on."

"I have not much to say," said Chumbley slowly; "only that it seems rather a determined way of inviting a couple of fellows to your country home, Princess. It has its good points, though, for you can always make sure of the number you want to have."

The Princess inclined her head as if in acquiescence, and then looked pleadingly at Hilton, whose brow displayed an angry frown, and who had begun to pace the room, making the bamboo laths bend and creak beneath his weight.

"I knew she had taken a fancy to him," said Chumbley to himself, as in his quiet dry way he noted what was going on; "but I never could have believed in this. I suppose I was caught and brought to play propriety, and to act as witness to the native ceremony, for she'll marry Hilton as sure as he's alive."

"Of course you will give orders at once for a boat to be in readiness to take us back?" said Hilton haughtily.

"No," said the Princess, smiling, "I shall not. Surely you are not tired of my hospitality quite so soon?"

"You are trifling, madam," said Hilton, "and it is time this childish farce was brought to an end. I insist upon your ordering a boat to be in readiness at once."

"I am sorry I cannot oblige you, Captain Hilton," said the lady gloomily.

"Why have you done this?" he cried. "Why are we brought here?"

"Why have I had you brought here?" said the Princess in a low, musical voice. "Shall I tell you?"

"If you wish to," said Hilton carelessly.

The Inche Maida's eyes flashed at his indifferent manner.

"If I were one of my women," she said, "I could not tell you. If I were only my own simple woman-self I could not tell you for the shame that I should feel. But I am a chief, and as a chief I can speak. I have the right to choose whom I would have for partner of my life, and I have chosen you."

"Chosen me?" cried Hilton, with a look of disgust at the tall, handsome woman before him.

"Yes; because I love you," she replied. "He knows that I love you. I read it weeks ago in his eyes."

"Have you been a partner to this accursed outrage, Chumbley?" cried Hilton fiercely.

"No, dear boy; not _to_, I'm a partner _in_ it," said Chumbley, coolly.

"Wise question that of yours. Was it likely?"

"No," said the Princess, "he did not know; but you were great friends and companions, and I brought you both. I love you."

He looked at her indignantly.

"I like your friend," she continued, turning and smiling at Chumbley, "he is so good-natured and big, and manly, and strong. I always feel as if he would be a man whom I could trust."

She held out her soft, shapely hand to him, and, acting on the impulse of the moment, Chumbley took it in his, pressed it warmly, and then raised it to his lips before it was withdrawn.

Hilton stamped his foot upon the bamboo floor, and then burst into a derisive laugh.

"Is this real, Chumbley?" he cried, "or is it part of a play?"

"I know what you mean by part of a play," cried the Princess, whose eyes began to flash as she felt the sting of Hilton's words. "It is no false make-believe, but real. I told you without shame, as a chief, that I love you, and that is why I brought you here."

"I am greatly honoured by your attention, madam," said Hilton, mockingly.