The fetters from the man’s ankles followed next, and fell to the ground, while Ned could not help wondering at the stolid aspect of the prisoner, who displayed not the slightest satisfaction at being freed from so painful and degrading a load.
What followed was so quick that Ned had hardly time to realise what it meant, for the officer signed to the prisoner to kneel down, and he sullenly obeyed, while his lower jaw was working in a mechanical fashion as he kept on grinding his betel-nut. The sun was evidently now well above the horizon, for the gray mist was shot with wondrous hues, and the palm-leaves high overhead were turned to gold. There were sweet musical notes from the jungle mingled with the harsher cries and shrieks of parrots, and with a peculiar rushing noise a great hornbill flapped its heavy wings, as it flew rapidly across the river. In short, it was the beginning of a glorious tropic day for all there but one, who knelt sullen and hopeless, only a few yards from Ned, who stood spell-bound, now that he realised what was to happen, too much fascinated by the horrible scene to turn and flee.
For, as the man knelt there with the guard of spearmen on either side, one Malay, who seemed to be an officer, but whom Ned realised to be the rajah’s executioner, took out a little handful of cotton wool from the folds of his sarong, tore open the loose baju or cotton jacket his victim wore, so as to lay bare the bronze skin upon his shoulder, and placed the wool over it like a loose pad just within the collar-bone.
“Is he going to set fire to it and brand him?” thought Ned; but the next moment he drew in his breath with a hiss, as if he suffered pain, for the executioner whipped out, from its wooden sheath at his waist, a short kris with a curved handle and a dull thin steel blade. This he held with his left hand perpendicularly, with the point resting in the centre of the cotton wool, and in the momentary pause which followed, Ned saw that the culprit was gazing straight at him in a dull heavy way, and that his lips were moving as he still ground the betel-nut between his teeth.
It was but a momentary pause, and then, quick as lightning, the executioner brought his right hand with a smart blow upon the curved hilt of the kris, driving it perpendicularly into the victim’s chest, transfixing his heart, and as rapidly drew it forth, while the prisoner fell back, without struggle or groan, splash into the river, where Ned saw him rolled over by the rapid current dimly-seen there, for the mist was heavy on the surface; but visible till there seemed to be a rush in the water, the dead man was snatched under, and the mist slowly rolled away, to leave the surface glittering in the morning sunshine, and taking a glorious tint of blue from the clear morning sky.
Ned saw all this vividly, and then a mist gathered over everything again, as he tottered rather than walked a few yards to where he could throw one arm round a tall slim cocoa-nut tree, and hold on, for he felt sick, and he knew that the mist now was only in his eyes.
But he saw the spearmen form up with military precision before and behind the executioner, as he calmly thrust his little kris back in the waist-folds of his sarong, and then the party marched off with their spears glittering in the morning sun, and from somewhere in the jungle a wild-fowl uttered his sharp short crow.
“Am I going to faint?” thought Ned; and then he started and turned sharply round, for a voice said quickly: “Ah, my lad! You there?”
Ned saw that it was Mr Braine standing before him, looking at him frowningly, and with an air of disgust.
“Yes; I came for a walk,” stammered Ned, huskily.