“No; I do not go so far as that, but you are in the realm of a petty independent prince, who is something of a despot, and for your own sake you must submit to the customs of the country.”
“But this is ridiculous!” cried Murray, angrily. “Ladies, forgive me for being so abrupt, but people from the old country resent coercion in every form. I’ll be as polite to your rajah as a gentleman should be, but I am not going to have my plans upset by a savage. Ned, my lad, we’ll see if they dare interfere with us.”
“I beg you will do nothing rashly,” said Mr Braine, for Murray took a step toward the ladies, and held out his hand smilingly.
“Good-bye,” he said frankly. “I am going some distance up the river, but I hope you will let me make your acquaintance again on our return.”
“You are not gone yet, Mr Murray,” said the doctor, shortly; “and I advise you, sir, to practise prudence for both your sakes. As I expected, here are the rajah’s people; I thought that they would not be long.”
Chapter Five.
Before the Rajah.
At the same moment that the doctor was speaking, Ned had caught sight of something glittering in the sun above the green shrubs that bordered the bamboo fence, and directly after that there was quite a blaze of yellow and scarlet colour as a party of Malays reached the gate and entered the grounds, a little group of swarthy-looking spearmen halting in the path, while two stately-looking men, with handkerchiefs tied turban fashion about their heads, came slowly up to the steps. The doctor descended to meet them, and then ushered them into the verandah where they saluted the ladies courteously, and then bowed gravely to the strangers, to whom they were introduced as two of the chief officers of the rajah in the most formal way; after which, as a brief conversation took place in the Malay tongue, and gave Ned the opportunity to examine their silken jackets and gay kilt-like sarongs in which were stuck their krises with the handles covered by the twisted folds, the doctor turned to Murray.