“But I could never settle down to being a prisoner,” cried Ned.
“Till you grow used to it. Oh, don’t mind; it is a whim of the rajah’s, and you will soon have leave to go. We never shall. There, hark! what did I say?”
She held up her hand, and Ned leaned forward, peering out into the darkness as the low distant cry of a wild beast was heard.
“Is that a tiger?”
“Yes, and it is so common that we scarcely notice it now. They never come into the village; but of course it would be terribly dangerous anywhere beyond the houses.”
Ned still leaned forward listening, as the cry was repeated, and then, in a low voice, he said: “Look, just where the light of the lamp shines faintly, I thought I saw the gleam of a spear. Can you see it?”
“Oh yes! two—three,” replied the girl, quickly. “There are more.”
“But what are armed men doing there?”
“Don’t you know?”
“No.”