“Seriously, my dear doctor,” said the resident, “I do sometimes feel that I am to blame for bringing those two motherless girls out into the jungle; but Rachel declared that she would not be separated from me; and Miss Sinclair, my sister’s child, seems more like one of my own, and shared her cousin’s feelings.”
“They are two ladies, Linton,” said the major, “for whom we feel the deepest respect; and, speaking selfishly, I am only too glad that my wife has a couple of such charming companions.”
“Yes,” said Captain Horton; “and if I had known what I know now, I should have let Mrs Horton have her wish, and accompany me.”
“Well, gentlemen,” said the resident, rather sadly, “I don’t know, but I have a sort of presentiment that it would have been better if we had been without ladies, or soldiers’ wives, if you come to that; for I cannot conceal from myself that we are bound upon a very risky expedition, one out of which I hope we shall all come safely.”
“Oh, we shall be safe enough,” said the major.
“Do you think there is really any danger, Mr Linton?” said Captain Smithers, rather hoarsely.
“Why, you are not afraid, are you, Smithers? Come, you must not show the white feather!”
“I am not afraid for myself, Major Sandars,” said the young captain, quietly; “and I hope I shall never show the white feather; but when there are women and children in an expedition—”
“Oh, come, come,” said the resident, gaily; “I am afraid I have been croaking. There may be danger; but when we are surrounded by such brave men as the officers and crew of the ‘Startler,’ and her Majesty’s somethingth foot, I see, after all, nothing whatever to fear.”
“Fear? no!” said Captain Horton. “Why, we could blow the whole place to Cape Horn with my guns; and the Malays would never face Sandars’ boys, with their bayonets.”