Congratulations in plenty were exchanged as soon as the communications were effected, though a good deal of annoyance was felt at being again out-manoeuvred by the Malay cunning.
One thing was very evident, and that was that there would be no safety for the residency while so daring a chieftain as Rajah Gantang was at liberty, with his two cleverly managed prahus.
No further alarms took place during the night, and in the morning the amount of damage done was found to be nothing more than a little carpentering and painting would restore. The real damage done was to the British prestige, which, in spite of the brave defence, had received a blow in the eyes of the Malays.
Judging the matter fairly next morning, Mr Linton and the officers came to the conclusion, after a careful inspection, that though it would have been necessary for the occupants of the residency to have fled to the little fort, half-a-dozen such desultory attacks would have done the latter no real harm.
“No,” said Major Sandars, aloud; “for my part, if provisioned, I should see no difficulty in holding our place against half-a-dozen rajahs. There is only one way in which we could be hit.”
“And that is?” said Captain Horton.
“By a surprise such as they treated us to last night. There is no other way in which they could harm us.”
Adam Gray heard his words, and in silence made an addition to them.
“They could harm us by treachery, or by the neglect of our sentries.”
The dark scene of the previous night flashed across his mind as he thought this, and he recalled Private Sim’s recumbent form amidst the grass, wondering the while whether he ought not to relate what had taken place, and so obtain for the fellow the punishment he deserved.