The Rajah of Dah - Part 56
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Part 56

"Never mind," said Ned; "perhaps our time will come."

"Faix thin, me lad, I'd like to hear it shtrike at wanst."

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

A BAD RETURN.

It was a dreary tramp down to the naga lying close beside their own, fastened to a tree on the river-bank; but though the two wounded men scowled at them, and even at the doctor who had offered to, and did dress their wounds, the rest of the Malays were respectful and friendly enough, for the Resident and doctor were favourites with them, and they could all recollect acts of kindness. The ladies were helped over difficult parts, and refreshments and water were freely offered to those who had, as the Malays thought, naturally enough tried to escape, while they on their part had received orders to recapture them, and been successful.

Then once more they were afloat, and for the first time Ned recognised their guardians of the jungle prison from which they had been rescued by Hamet, these men going back in their own boat, now reverted to its proper crew.

So the two nagas floated gently down the stream in the afternoon, reaching the campong at last; but they went down so leisurely that it was dark when they reached the jetty, shouting and beating a gong to announce their return in triumph.

Everything seemed very quiet at the village, and Ned tried to pierce the darkness and make out the place where they had lain in hiding, and that where they had landed to try to rescue Murray.

"I say," whispered Frank, rousing up from the despondent state in which he had sunk, "try and count the prahus."

Ned turned and looked in the other direction, but it was too dark, and he said he could not see.

"I can't either, but it seemed as if there were four."

The men sprang ash.o.r.e, and secured the two boats before bidding their prisoners come out, and as one by one these landed, Mr Braine overheard a little of their conversation.

"We are to be all taken straight up to the rajah's," he whispered.

"Keep up your courage, and let's hope yet. All may be well after all."

"Very kind of you to say so, Mr Braine," replied the doctor, "but--"

There was no time for further converse, the Malay head-man giving an order, and the whole party were marched off the jetty and up the broad path leading toward the rajah's; the crews of the two boats following with regular military step, till they reached a narrower part, where the way led between two houses, when suddenly, as if they had risen out of the earth, a body of men blocked the road, and guard and prisoners were halted.

Then there were cries of excitement, and orders given to retreat, but another body of enemies blocked the road in their rear.

For a few moments it seemed as if the prisoners were to be in the centre of a desperate encounter, but a few sharp commands sufficed to make the Malay guard sullenly give up their arms to a force ten times their number, and then the march toward the rajah's house was continued, but under a fresh guard now.

"What is the matter?" whispered Ned. "Is the rajah angry with them for taking us?"

"I don't quite know," said Frank. "It seems to me that--Wait a minute or two, it's so dark, and I can't make these men out."

They were marched directly after into the enclosure, now a blaze of light from the number of lanterns and dammar torches stuck about. The place, too, was filled with armed men, and as they were halted just at the foot of the steps, a Malay officer in scarlet and yellow came down, looked eagerly at the English party, and then signed to them to follow.

Frank tried to get to his father, but he was not allowed to advance till the ladies had all ascended to the broad veranda; then both lads were ordered to go up, and they followed their seniors into the rajah's chief room, now brilliantly lit, and dotted with his chief men, while he sat on a bamboo stool at the far end in his gorgeous uniform as upon their first meeting, the Tumongong sitting upon a second stool upon his right.

"Ugh! the old guy!" whispered Frank. "I wish--I say, look--it isn't him. Why, Ned, what's happened?"

The reason for this exclamation was the rising of the Tumongong, to tower above the double rank of sword and regalia bearers on either side.

And to the astonishment of all present, he stretched out his hands, and, in very fair English, as he took Amy's and kissed them, said:

"My dear child, Allah be praised that you and yours are safe! Mrs Braine, Mrs Barnes, welcome home."

He kissed their hands in turn, and then greeted the gentlemen warmly before turning to the boys. "Frank--Edward Murray," he said, "safe; no one hurt? I am very, very glad."

"But," cried Mr Braine, eagerly, "the rajah?"

"I am the Rajah of Dah now," said the Malay chief with a touch of hauteur in his tones. "Are you surprised?"

"No," said Mr Braine, warmly. "Thank G.o.d! I knew that some day it must come."

"When the fruit was dead ripe, it would fall," said the new rajah, solemnly.

"And Sadi?"

"The tyrant, the robber and oppressor of all who ascended and descended this river, is dead, sir, and with your help, I hope that a new period of peace will open on the land. The time was ripe at last, and I sent to my ally here, Rajah Alleen."

This chief rose and was presented to all in turn, bowing with Eastern dignity, and the scene would have been impressive but for the Malay's vanity. The gorgeous military uniform of his enemy had excited his cupidity ever since reports had reached him of its splendour, and the minute he had made an almost bloodless seizure of the campong, he had claimed it as his spoil, received it readily from his friend the ex-Tumongong, and arrayed himself in it ready for the return of the English people, whom he wished to impress.

He succeeded far above his expectations, for that night, when back at his old home, Frank said merrily:

"Why, it don't fit him half so well as it did poor old Sadi."

"No," a.s.sented Ned. "But--dead! how horrible!"

"Yes; one of his own men killed him, they say, for every one hated him except me."

"And you liked him?"

"No, I don't think I liked him," said Frank, taking up the kris Hamet had replaced in his hands; and then, with a shudder, hanging it upon the wall; "but he was always very kind to me."

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

TIM PROVES HIMSELF A DRISCOL.

But for the presence of two strange prahus and their enormous crews, who seemed more than could be packed in the long swift vessels, it seemed impossible to believe in the great change that had taken place.

For the Resident, the doctor, the Greigs, and Murray were back in their houses, where the new rajah's people were constantly showing them tokens of their master's good-will. The people of the campong were all _en fete_, and the place was given up to rejoicings as they began to realise that new days were in prospect, and a man might call his life his own.

And not the least puzzled of the occupants of the place was Tim, who suddenly came confidentially to the boys as they sauntered back into the garden.

"Masther Frank," he said, "will ye have the goodness to pinch me arm?"

"Certainly, Tim," cried the boy.

"Aisy lad, aisy. Don't take the pace out. Thank ye; it's all right. I am wide awake."

"Of course you are."