She shook her head, but altered her mind directly.
“Yes,” she said; and she took the cup Chumbley offered with a smile, while as he provided himself with a second, he nodded and said to himself:
“That’s very ladylike; so that we should not feel suspicious, I presume.”
“Ask her how long she means to keep on with this theatrical folly,” said Hilton, in a low voice to his friend—in French.
“What does he say?” cried the Princess, quickly. “He asks if you are still in earnest about keeping us prisoners,” said Chumbley. “If you are serious.”
“Earnest? Serious?” she replied, with her eyes flashing. “Should I have taken such a step as this, and risked offending your people, if I were not serious? Suppose I let you go—what then?”
“If Hilton has his own way,” said Chumbley, laughing, “there will be an expedition to come and burn your place about your ears for abducting two of her Majesty’s subjects.”
“No, no—no, no!” cried the Inche Maida, with a negative motion of her hand. “You would not be so cowardly as to come and attack a weak woman; that is for the Malays to do. You English are too brave and strong. I am not afraid.”
“Well, I don’t know,” said Chumbley; “we might, you know.”
“Oh, no, I won’t believe it.”