"But it is true!" whispered Helen. "Speak lower, or you will waken her," said the girl; "and she hates you more than I!"

"I will obey you in anything," whispered Helen, restraining her voice, and sinking down and clutching the girl's knees, "only help me to escape, and my father will fill your hands with gold."

"What use would it be to me?" said the girl with a quiet little laugh.

"I will give you anything you ask!" panted Helen excitedly, as she seemed to see a faint chance of the girl yielding.

"Do you not understand what would happen if I helped you to go?" said the girl, quietly.

"No; I cannot tell," replied Helen, "but I will not mind the danger."

"There is more danger for me than for you," was the answer, with a little laugh. "I will tell you: Murad would be angry and fierce; he would forget that he loved me once, and brought me here to be one of his wives. He would make his men take me to the river, and force me to kneel down, when I should be krissed and thrown into the water for the crocodiles to eat."

"Oh, no; it is too horrible!" whispered Helen, as her excited imagination conjured up the dreadful scene.

"It is true," said the girl, simply. "He had one wife krissed like that because she ran away twice--because she ran away to the boy she loved before she was taken from her home. Murad is Sultan, and he will be obeyed. He is very cruel sometimes!"

Helen shuddered as she thought that if this were true, she could not ask for help at such a price.

"I should have gone away before now," said the girl, thoughtfully, as her hands played with Helen's hair; "for I have someone else who followed me here that he might be near me; but I dare not go! Murad would kill me. It would not hurt much, and I don't think I should mind; but he would kill someone else, and I could not bear that!"

"Go, then," said Helen quickly. "Leave me to myself. Let me escape without your help!"

"He would kill me and her all the same," said the girl, sadly; "and if I let you get out, what could you do? You would wander in the jungle till the beasts seized you, or you died. You must have a boat to escape from here; and if you could get a boat you could not row."

"I would escape along the jungle-paths," whispered Helen, excitedly.

"No," said the girl, "you could not do that. There is only one path through the jungle, and that goes from this house to the river. That is all. You cannot escape; why do you try?"

Helen rose from her knees, and clutched the girl's arms fiercely.

"I can escape, and I will!" she panted excitedly. "How dare he seize an English lady and insult her like this!"

"Because he is Sultan here, and he is stronger and greater than we are,"

said the girl. "Murad is a mighty prince, and all the people here are his slaves and have to obey. You must obey him too."

"I!" cried Helen.

"Yes, you; and you will be happy, for he loves you more than all. He used to come from Sindang here, and talk to us, and praise you, and tell us that you would come and be our mistress here. He loves you very much, and you will be quite happy soon."

"Happy? With him?" cried Helen, in horror.

"Yes, happy. You have won his love from us, and we here are only like your slaves. It is you who take away our happiness, and I ought to hate you; but I do not, for you are so young. Do you love someone else?"

"Yes--no, no!" panted Helen, excitedly.

"But you love Murad?"

"Oh, no, no!" cried Helen.

"I am sorry--I am sorry," said the girl, thoughtfully.

"Then help me--pray help me!" whispered Helen, prayerfully, and she flung her arms round the swarthy girl, and held her to her breast.

"Help me to get away, for I do not love Murad, and you do!"

The girl started and thrust Helen away, but only to cling to her in turn after a moment's pause.

"Yes, I think I love him," she said, softly, "though he is very cruel to me now."

"And you hate me--very much--because--because Murad loves me?" whispered Helen, with a shudder.

"I don't think I hate you very much," said the girl, softly.

"You need not hate me--indeed you need not!" whispered Helen, and her voice, her very ways were changed now. The old pride was entirely gone, and she spoke with winning, womanly sweetness, full of tenderness and caress, as she nestled closer and closer to the girl. "You need not hate me," she repeated, "for I detest this Murad--I loathe him! I love some one else! Help me, then, to get back to my own people--to escape from Murad. Help me, or I shall die!"

The girl was silent.

"Oh," moaned Helen, "she does not understand anything I say!"

"Yes," said the girl, softly, "I understand."

"Then you pretended you could not!" cried Helen, wrathfully.

"Murad ordered me to pretend that I only knew my own tongue," said the girl. "But no, I cannot help you, and you will not die. I thought so once; but we do not die because we are taken from our homes and people.

Murad makes us love him, and then we forget the past, for we know that it is our fate."

Helen's heart sank as she listened to the girl's words, so full of patient resignation, and she wondered whether she would ever be like this. There was not a ray of hope now in her utterances, and for the moment, in the horror of the despair that came upon her, she felt frantic.

Thrusting her companion from her, she made a dash for the entrance, beating and tearing at it in her madness, as she uttered a series of loud hysteric cries. She shook the door fiercely, but her efforts were in vain; and as she strove to reach the window her fit of excitement seemed to pa.s.s, leaving her weak and despairing, heart-sick too, as she felt how lowering her acts must be in the sight of her companions; for the second girl had now sprung up, and she felt herself dragged back to her couch, and there compelled to stay.

They both joined in scolding her angrily; and feeling her helplessness, a strange feeling of weakness came over the prisoner, and she lay there at last a prey to despair, as she realised now more fully how slight was her prospect of escape--how much slighter was the chance of Neil Harley coming to her help, however earnestly he might have searched.

Before morning, when her companions had once more sunk to sleep, in spite of the hope that she felt of perhaps after all winning one of them to her side, so terribly had her misery of feeling increased, that as she pondered on her state, she found herself praying that Neil Harley might never look upon her face again.

VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

ESCAPED BY ACCIDENT.

The Rev Arthur Rosebury pa.s.sed many miserable hours when the sun was down, for then he began to think of Helen Perowne, and wondered where she was. It was a terrible thought that she was in the power of the Malays; and in a dreamy, despairing manner, he wondered how matters were at the station, and whether any steps would be taken to set him at liberty.

But as soon as the daylight came there was solace for the solitary prisoner, for he was amongst wonderful plants, such as he had never before seen, and his guards or attendants, whichever they might be called, were always ready to help him, and to supply him with any specimens he required.

He had lost count of time by devoting himself so earnestly to the botanical treasures of the garden; and one morning, after asking himself whether he ought not to make some effort to escape, he was out in the grounds of his prison-house once more, when, having pretty well exhausted its treasures, he walked straight to the gate.

His guard, who had been seated beneath the veranda calmly chewing his betel-nut, s.n.a.t.c.hed out his kris, and darted fiercely after the chaplain, who was evidently about to escape; but on coming in sight of the prisoner, and finding him stooping over a cl.u.s.ter of orchids in a damp place in the jungle, the man stopped short, a contemptuous smile crossed his face, and he slowly replaced his kris, folded his arms and leaned against a tree.