Helen’s heart gave one great throb of hope, and raising her eyes to those of her attendant, she read there that her message would be sent.
The second woman brought in a bunch of what seemed to be a kind of waxy yellow jasmine of an extremely powerful odour. These she proceeded to twine in and amongst Helen’s magnificent dark hair; and when the prisoner shudderingly attempted to resist, feeling as she did that she was being decked out for, as it were, a sacrifice, the flower-bearer stormed at her angrily in the Malay tongue, and seemed to threaten her with some severe punishment if she persisted in tearing them out.
“It would be childish to keep on opposing them,” thought Helen, whose spirits were lighter now that she had found some means, as she hoped, of communicating with the station; and she resigned herself to her attendant’s clever hands.
As she sat back, listening languidly to the whistling, chattering noise of the parroquets that swarmed in the jungle, she felt a pang shoot through her, for very faintly heard there was a sound familiar to her ear—a sound that she had frequently listened to at her open window at the station. It was the plashing of oars coming from a distance, and she felt that at last the Rajah was approaching the place, to see his prisoner.
Helen’s teeth gritted together as she set them hard, calling upon herself for all her fortitude and strength of mind for what she knew must be a terrible ordeal.
The scene at home on that morning when Murad had come to propose for her hand came back most vividly, and for the moment she trembled as she realised the evil she had done.
She recovered herself though somewhat, and striving hard to be prepared for what was to come, sat listening and wondering whether Murad really was close at hand.
She had not long to wait in indecision, and she knew that her hearing had not played her false, for the two girls had heard the same sound, and running to the window, stood listening as the plash of oars now came nearer and nearer.
Then the sounds ceased, and there was to Helen a painful silence. The heat grew oppressive, and the leaves hung motionless in the glowing air. For the moment it seemed like one of the oppressive July days in her old school; but the fancy was gone directly after, and the horrors of her position came back so strongly that she could hardly refrain from running wildly about the room and crying for help.
Just then the two girls left the window, and crossed to where Helen was seated, darting at her, as it seemed in her then excited condition, furious and angrily envious looks before turning now to the doorway, passing through, and letting the great curtain fall behind.