“Your lotuses are lovely, Mr Midshipman Roberts,” said Miss Linton, smilingly greeting the frank-faced lad.
“Aren’t they, Miss Linton?” said Bob. “I’m just going to send them aboard to the first luff; he’s rather poorly.”
They parted; and it was quite true, for after looking rather shame-facedly the one at the other, the ensign bore off his arums to the mess-room, and the lotuses were sent on board the “Startler” by the very next boat.
There was nothing more said respecting the adventure with the Malay boatman; but the two youths, who were a good deal puzzled in their own minds as to whether they were friends or enemies, exchanged glances a day or two later, when stringent orders were issued respecting the behaviour of the Englishmen to the natives. The men of both services were warned to be very careful, especially as it was the custom for the Malays to carry the deadly kris. The character of the people too was enlarged upon, their pride and self-esteem; and strict orders were given, to be followed by severe punishment if disobeyed, that the people and their belongings were to be treated with the greatest respect.
Every one was as busy as could be, for there was an immense amount of labour necessary to get the place into a state satisfactory to the various officers. Great preparations were being made too for the first meeting with Sultan Hamet, though it was a matter of doubt whether he would come to the residency in state, or expect the English to call upon him in his palm-thatched palace.
“He’s a rum sort of a chap,” Dick the sailor said, freely giving his opinion. “Sultan, indeed! What call have they to say he’s a sultan? Why, Sergeant Lund, Billy Mustard, and that sick chap Sim, who went ashore with despatches, come back last night, and they say it’s no more a palace as he lives in than a pig-sty. It’s for all the world like a big bamboo barn, thatched with leaves.”
“What’s that?” said Bob Roberts, coming up, with the young ensign, to where two or three of the sailors were, under the trees, talking to a group of soldiers.
“I was a telling of ’em about what Sergeant Lund told me, sir,” said Dick, pulling his forelock, “that this here sultan as we’ve come here to protect lives in a place as is just like a big bamboo barn standing on stilts. And Lor’ ha’ mercy, they say it was a sight: with leaves, and cabbage stumps, and potato parings chucked about under the place!”
“Now come, Dick,” cried the middy; “no yarns, please.”
“Well sir, of course I don’t mean real English cabbage stumps and potato parings, same as we has at home, but what answers for ’em here, and coky-nut huxes and shells, and banana rinds, and a nasty bad smelling kind o’ fruit as they calls doorings.”