A Malay Friend.
Archie Maine’s sensations as he marched beside his chief into the mess-room were such that he would far rather have escaped to his own quarters; but he began to pull himself together as he caught sight of a friend, and the next minute he was being in turn introduced by the quiet, gentlemanly Resident to the Rajah Suleiman, a heavy-looking, typical Malay with peculiar, hard, dark eyes and thick, smiling lips, who greeted him in fair English and murmured something about “visit” and the “elephants and tigers.” And then, as the Eastern chief, who did not look at home in the English evening-dress he had adopted, turned away to smile upon another of the officers, Archie joined hands at once with a slight, youthful-looking visitor also in evening-dress, who as the youths chatted together showed his mastery of the English language sufficiently to address the subaltern as “old chap,” following it up with:
“When are you going to get your boss to give you a day or two’s leave?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Archie. “Not for some time; I’m in disgrace.”
“Disgrace! What do you mean?” was the inquiry.
“Oh, not sticking enough to my duties.”
“Duties?”
“Yes; drill and practice.”
“Oh, nonsense! You don’t want to be always drilling and drilling and drilling. Your men could kill us all off without any more of that. I shall ask the Major to let you come and stay with me a month.”
“No, no, no,” said Archie, though his eyes were flashing with eagerness.