you.”
“But why?”
“Because she does trust you—or, rather, our Government does.”
The young man turned sharply to gaze with a searching glance in the speaker’s eyes.
“What do you mean?” he said.
“Go on with your dinner, old chap, and I’ll tell you by-and-by. Here’s Down wants to have a word with you.—Don’t you, Down?”
“Ah yes, Captain Down,” said the young Rajah, bowing towards him. “I seem to know you. Maine says you are such a splendid shot. Are you?”
“Oh, I can pull a trigger, and I can hit something sometimes,” said the young officer.
“Sometimes!” put in Archie. “Why, he never misses. You ought to know more of him, Rajah. He’s like that old country gentleman’s two sons who loved hunting and shooting. He’s a regular Nimrod and Ramrod rolled into one. Understand?”
“Yes; I read that in the old joke-book. Then your friend will come and have some shooting. Will you not?”
“Rather!” said the Captain; and the general conversation went on till the old English custom was in the ascendant and the Major gave Her Majesty’s health and the band played “God save the Queen;” and afterwards the Major proposed the health of their guest, His Highness Sultan Suleiman, who afterwards rose and bowed two or three times, said a few words very clumsily, and then turned towards the distingué-looking guest on the Major’s left, and sat down; whereupon the French guest said a few words to the Major, who rose and announced that the Count de Lasselle would respond for the Sultan Suleiman.
There was the customary applause as the Count arose; and in very good English, which he only had to supplement now and then with a strong dash of French, he returned thanks for their illustrious guest, who, he could assure the English officers, had but one aim in life, and that was to be the friend and ally of the great British Queen. His speech was long and very flowery, and he did not forget to say that there was no other country in the world suited to be the Sultan’s ally but beautiful France, his own country, he was proud to say, and he was sure that she too would always be the great friend of the Sultan; at which some one at the table uttered in a low voice that was almost like a cough the ejaculation, “Hum!”
Archie turned sharply, and exchanged glances with Captain Down.
“What did the Doctor mean by that?” said the latter.
“Don’t know,” said Archie. “Shall I go and ask him?”
“By-and-by. Look at your friend.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
“He looks as if he felt that he was being left out in the cold.”
Archie glanced at the young Rajah, who was sitting back picking his cigarette to pieces; and then his attention was taken up by seeing the big, bluff Sergeant of the regiment making his way behind the chairs to where the Doctor was seated.
“It’s all right, Maine,” said the Captain; “you needn’t go. The Major’s sent Patient Job, as the lads call him, to ask old Bolus what he means by insulting the French guest.”
“Get out! Somebody taken ill. I hope it’s none of the ladies.”
The Doctor nodded, and left his chair, to follow the Sergeant, just as the Major rose again to propose the health of the regiment’s other guest that evening, Maharajah Hamet, another of the chiefs, who had declared himself the friend of their Queen and country.
The toast was quietly received, and quietly replied to in a few well-spoken words by the young Prince, not without eliciting some remarks at his mastery of English; and soon after the party broke up in smoke, the officers strolling down to the banks of the river, where the landing-place was gay with Chinese lanterns hung here and there and ornamenting the two nagas of the Rajahs lying some distance apart and filled by the well-armed followers of the chiefs, one of whom was heartily cheered by those assembled as he slowly walked in company with his French companion to take his seat, before, in response to three or four sonorous notes from a gong, the yellow-uniformed rowers dipped their oars lightly, to keep the dragon-boat in mid-stream so that it might be borne swiftly onward.
The young Rajah Hamet remained some few minutes longer, after taking his leave of the Major and officers, and then, accompanied by Captain Down and Archie, he walked slowly along to where a guard of the English infantry was drawn up, the chief’s men being waiting in their places, ready to push off.
“Don’t take this as a compliment,” said the young Malay. “It is all sincere, and I can make you very welcome in good old English fashion as long as you like to stay—you, Captain Down, and you, Maine. You make the Captain come too. I promise you plenty of sport. My shikaris know their business. Once more, good-night.”
He stepped back, the long, live-looking boat glided off, and the rowers’ oars dipped with the vim and accuracy of an eight-oared racer on the Thames. But she made head slowly against the swift stream, while, as the young men watched her, their eyes rested upon the fire-flies glittering amongst the overhanging trees upon the banks, and all at once there was a loud splash just ahead of where the naga was gliding.
“What’s that—some one overboard?” said the Captain.
“No, sir,” said a deep British voice from just behind where the young officers stood; “only one of them great, scaly varmints getting out of the way.”
“Oh, it’s you, Sergeant,” said Archie quickly; and then, on the impulse of the moment, the lad laid his hand on the big non-com’s arm and said hurriedly, “I’ve had it out with the Major, Ripsy, and it’s all right now. But it was all my fault. Don’t be too hard on poor Pegg.”
The Sergeant’s reply was checked by a question from the Captain:
“Whom was the Doctor fetched to see? Any one ill?”
The Sergeant chuckled.
“No, sir. It was them rival niggers beginning to cut one another’s throats; but I stopped it with my lads, and then fetched the Doctor. It gave him three or four little jobs. Some on them mean a row.”
Chapter Four.
The Doctor’s Patients.
The looking-glass in Archie Maine’s quarters often told him that he was rather a good-looking young fellow; that is to say, he gave promise of growing into a well-featured, manly youth without any foppish, effeminate, so-called handsomeness. But nature had been very kind to him, and, honestly, he scarcely knew anything about his own appearance; for when he looked in his glass for reasons connected with cleanliness—putting his hair straight, smoothing over his curliness, and playing at shaving away, or, rather, scraping off, some very smooth down—he had a habit of contracting his nerves and muscles so that a pretty good display of wrinkles came into view all over his forehead and at the corners of his lips and eyes, presenting to him quite a different-looking sort of fellow from the one known to his friends.
The morning after the mess dinner, he had given a parting glance in his little mirror, looking very much screwed-up, for his mind was busy with rather troublous thoughts, among which were the events of the past day, especially those connected with his interview with the Major.
Then he had hurried off to take advantage of what little time he had before going on duty, and made for the Doctor’s bungalow. It was not much of a place; but the glorious tropic foliage, the distant view of the river, and, above all, the flowers of the most brilliant colours that were always rushing into bloom or tumbling off to deck the ground made it a brilliant spot in the station, and as he neared it his face