She asked this again and again, but each time, with crushing violence, the answer seemed to come that if they did, it would be too late—too late.
It was wonderful how, in the few hours she was left alone, her thoughts seemed now to centre upon the Resident. She remembered her father, and thought of how he would be troubled at her absence; and she recalled Hilton, Chumbley, the Reverend Arthur Rosebury, but only as subsidiary portraits in her mental picture. Neil Harley’s was the principal figure, and his face seemed to smile now encouragement to her as she mentally appealed to him for help, looking to him as the one whose duty it was to afford her protection, and save her from the perils which hemmed her in.
“It will he—it is—a bitter lesson to me,” she thought, as she grew more calm. “He will find out where I am—he will never rest until he does; and when he sees me will he cast me off? No,” she cried, hysterically; “he will have pity on me—have pity—for, oh, Heaven help me! I need it now sorely.”
These thoughts brought calmness to the prisoner, and uttering a sigh of relief, she left the window, and threw herself wearily upon the soft mats spread for her use—neither chair nor table being in the apartment—and there she reclined, wondering how long a time would elapse before Neil Harley could come to her help; for minute by minute her belief strengthened that, well supported by her friends, he would soon be there.
Helen’s increasing calmness gave her a return of appetite, and she gained strength for trials to come by partaking heartily of the food placed before her; and, as the evening advanced into night, she lay down and rested, giving her companions no trouble by fresh attempts to escape.
The bright morning sunshine gave her fresh hope and a sense of cheerfulness which she assumed with beating heart was due to the fact that Neil Harley was drawing nearer, and in this elated spirit she partook of breakfast, the two Malay girls laughing merrily and pausing to place some sweet-scented flowers in her tresses. Then she had to submit while they made some alteration in the way in which they had bound up her hair, showing their teeth more than seemed necessary, and drawing her attention to the fact that they were not only dyed, but filed in a particular way.
They were very attentive, bringing her flowers and fruit in large quantities. Then they brought brighter and gayer sarongs, asking her if she would change, telling her that her darkened face was becoming, pointing to her teeth at the same time, and tapping their own.
She was puzzled for the time, but the explanation was not long in coming.
In the course of the morning, while she sat listening to the babble of the two attendants, but with her ears strained to catch every external sound, she suddenly heard voices outside talking earnestly, and her heart gave a hopeful throb as she turned her head, her fond imagination suggesting, at once, the thought that the excitement outside was due to the knowledge of strangers being at hand.
Helen’s hope died out like the flickering flame of an exhausted lamp, as the thick woven curtain hanging over the door was held aside, and a tall, muscular, repulsive-looking Malay woman entered with three others, whom, by their rich dresses, Helen supposed to be the Rajah’s wives.