All this was seen at a glance as they advanced, and Ned had thoroughly crushed down the desire to laugh at the dark potentate, when his uncle nearly made him explode by whispering: “Make your fortune, Ned. Buy the whole party for Madame Tussaud’s.”
He was saved from a horrible breach of court etiquette by the two officials advancing, bowing low to the rajah, and making a short speech to his highness, who nodded and scowled while the guard of spearmen formed up in a row behind, and Mr Braine saluted in military fashion, and went and stood half behind at the rajah’s left elbow, listened to something the great man said, and then looked at the two visitors.
“His highness bids me say that you are welcome to his court.”
“We thank his highness,” said Murray, frankly. Then to Ned: “Do as I do;” and he advanced and held out his hand.
There was a slight movement amongst the sword-bearers and officials, and a dozen fierce-looking men seemed ready to spring forward at this display of equality. But the rajah did not resent it; he smiled, rose, and took the extended hands in turn, making his plume vibrate and his busby topple forward, so that it dropped right off, and would have fallen in the dust but for the activity of Ned. He caught it and returned it to the wearer, who frowned with annoyance as he replaced it in its proper position.
“Dank you,” he said, quite surlily, and he shook hands now. “How der doo?”
This last word was prolonged with quite a growl.
“Quite well, and glad to pay our compliments to your highness,” said Murray.
The rajah’s brow puckered, and he stared heavily, first at his visitors and then at Mr Braine, for he had reached the end of his English.
That individual came to his rescue, however, and after a few formal compliments had passed, with the people all listening in stolid silence, Murray requested through his interpreter permission to pass on through the rajah’s country.