"Oh, how can you take things so quietly!" cried Murray.

"Because I am more at ease. Those boys are alive. He would not kill them. He felt that they were in the way of his plans. They must have done something to make him act as he has done."

"If I could only be sure of that," said Murray, "it would be one trouble the less."

Mr Braine clapped his hands. A quiet-looking Malay entered the room, trimmed the lamp, and went out again, to return with water-pipes and a pan of charcoal; after which he retired as silently as he came, and once more entered bearing a tray with coffee.

"Smoke, drink your coffee, my dear fellow," said Mr Braine, quietly.

"I cannot."

"You must, man; you want your brain clear and your body rested."

"How can you speak so coolly, with those poor people in such agony?"

"Because I am helping them--or preparing to," said Mr Braine, cheerfully. "Then the game is not lost; be guided by me, and you shall marry Amy, and some day we will talk and chat over these troubles, which time will soften, and they will not be so horrible then."

"But if it comes to the worst," cried Murray. "If this wretched despot, presuming on his power, insists upon that poor girl becoming his wife-- Wife? No; it is an insult to the name."

"He will not succeed," said Mr Braine, sternly; "even monarchs are not all-powerful. The night before the marriage, if everything else has been tried, that man will die."

"What! be murdered?" cried Murray, in horrified tones.

"No; the cup of his iniquities will be full; he will be adjudged worthy of death; he will die, and a new rajah will reign."

"A new rajah! Who will it be?"

"Hush! these places are very thin; our words might be heard."

"But tell me. You can trust me."

"Hist! some one."

There was a foot upon the steps, and the Tumongong entered and saluted both gravely.

"His highness bids me tell you," said the officer, "that he does not forget the many good services you have done for him. He desires now that you content yourselves by staying here, where you will have everything you desire."

"Except liberty," said Mr Braine, bitterly.

"Except liberty," replied the Tumongong. "Good-night. Sleep. Be obedient, and your lives are safe."

He bowed and left them, and as soon as he was out of hearing, Mr Braine told Murray what had pa.s.sed.

"Then our lives are safe?"

"If we are obedient."

"I shall be obedient till I see an opportunity to strike, sir. But go on; tell me who will reign in his stead."

"That man," said Mr Braine, quietly puffing at his pipe.

"The Tumongong?"

"Yes. Still waters run deep."

"But--"

"Hush, man! Keep that in your breast. I know, and I am certain. He is our friend, but is compelled to act as he does. You saw just now--you heard his words--so did the Malays by the door, and every sentence will be reported to the rajah," said Mr Braine.

"Yes."

"If the tyrant dreamed that his officer was friendly toward us to the extent of trying to give us help, he would be marched to the river-bank at sunrise; there would be another execution, and the world would hold one honest man the less. Now, drink your coffee, and lie back and sleep."

"I cannot."

"You must. We can do nothing but wait the turn of affairs, and the more coolly we take these matters, the better able we shall be to act. Now try and rest."

Murray shook his head, and sat wondering how a man whose son had been suddenly s.n.a.t.c.hed from him could drop into a calm and restful sleep.

Then he wondered how Amy and the ladies were, and then he ceased wondering, for when the sun rose above the river mist and the tops of the jungle trees, it shone in between the mats hanging over the doorway, lighting up the Resident's room, and the divan where Murray lay back utterly exhausted, and now fast asleep.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

WHERE THE BOYS WERE.

"Doesn't matter out here, doesn't it?" said Ned. "Well, I tell you what it is. I shall talk to uncle about it, and he'll speak to the doctor, and tell him it would be disgraceful."

"Don't talk so loudly; those fellows are close behind."

"But they can't talk English."

"No; but some of them have heard so much that I often think they understand a little of what is said."

"I don't see any one about."

"Perhaps not, but they're following us all the same, and if you were to make a rush off now, very likely you'd run up against one of them, ready to stop you. But I don't know," continued Frank, looking stealthily about; "I've got regular cat's eyes now, with going to the jungle edge of a night to set and watch traps with the men. I don't see any one about. What do you say to a walk down to the jetty?"

"What for?"

"To hear the crocodiles at play. They have fine games there of a night, splashing and chasing one another."

"Oh no. I'm too tired, really."

"You are a chap! Why, we might take one of the boats and have a row.

Go off to one of the prahus, and startle the beggars. No, that wouldn't do, because they might throw spears at us."

"But they couldn't hit us if they did."