“My dear sir, you do not know what you are saying; the bank for miles inland is utterly impassable.”
“Then the other way by that elephant track.”
“Farther into the enemy’s country. No, sir; there is only one route—the river; and so far, I can only see violence as the way, and we are too weak to attempt that—too weak, or the rajah is too strong.”
“Then do I understand you to mean that you are going to remain prostrate, and bow down your necks for this man to trample upon you?”
“Mr Murray,” interposed Mr Braine, “you are too hard. You are losing your temper. Recollect, sir, that we are placed in a position whose difficulties you even now hardly realise.”
“Indeed you are wrong, Mr Braine!” cried Murray, hotly.
“Then remember, sir, you are speaking to a gentleman—a father, whose heart is wrung by the position in which he is placed.”
“Yes, I am wrong,” said Murray, warmly; “but have some pity for me too. Doctor Barnes, you cannot be blind to what I think and feel. All this is agonising to me. Look here, sir; do you think I have not brains enough to see that this man reads me and my sentiments toward your daughter. The scoundrel—the insolent barbarian! he is actually jealous, and under his smiling civility, he is trying to crush me down or to sweep me out of his path. Do you not see what this expedition to-morrow means.”
“Ah, I did not think of that!” cried Greig, excitedly.
“But I did,” said Murray. “I will not go so far as to say that the wretch means to have me killed, but I do say that as my presence here might interfere with his plans, I am to be either put out of the way, or kept up the country a prisoner, doing his work until such time as he considers it safe for me to return.”