“Well, I should like to do something,” he insisted. “May I guard the janjong until we reach Vepaja?”
He referred to Duare, whose title, compounded of the two words daughter and king, is synonymous to princess. I thought that I noticed just a trace of excitement in his voice as he made the request.
“She is well guarded now,” I explained.
“But I should like to do it,” he insisted. “It would be a service of love and loyalty for my jong. I could stand the night guard; no one likes that detail ordinarily.”
“It will not be necessary,” I said shortly; “the guard is already sufficient.”
“She is in the after cabins of the second deck house, is she not?” he asked.
I told him that she was.
“And she has a special guard?”
“A man is always before her door at night,” I assured him.
“Only one?” he demanded, as though he thought the guard insufficient.