"Go back at once."
"No, no, Sahib," cried the hunter wildly; "it would mean death to you all. They would seize the Prince, and kill him. You must wait till day, and then we will go on right up into the jungle, where you must hide till there is peace again, and you can go back home. We can get food for you, and a hiding-place where the people who come to find and kill the young Prince shall never find where you are."
"Mr. Kenyon, you will not listen to this man?" cried Phra wildly; but he received no answer, for just then the doctor gripped his friend tightly by the arm in the darkness which seemed to add to the horror of the terrible situation.
"Kenyon," he whispered, "I am weak and ill. I cannot think. This stroke has driven me mad. Act for me, old friend—think for me. Help me to save my wife."
Mr. Kenyon's reply was a firm pressure of the hand, but some moments elapsed before he spoke.
"Sree," he said at last, "you are a brave, true servant, and your advice is good; but neither the doctor nor I can do as you say. What boat is this that has joined us? A small one, of course?"
"Yes, Sahib; it is for two rowers, but it was the only one Adong could get."
"It will do. Now listen, for I trust you."
"Yes, the Sahib always trusted his servant," replied Sree proudly.
"You will take command of this boat that we are in, and I trust to you and your men to fight for and protect your young Prince and my son."