“Get out! Somebody taken ill. I hope it’s none of the ladies.”
The Doctor nodded, and left his chair, to follow the Sergeant, just as the Major rose again to propose the health of the regiment’s other guest that evening, Maharajah Hamet, another of the chiefs, who had declared himself the friend of their Queen and country.
The toast was quietly received, and quietly replied to in a few well-spoken words by the young Prince, not without eliciting some remarks at his mastery of English; and soon after the party broke up in smoke, the officers strolling down to the banks of the river, where the landing-place was gay with Chinese lanterns hung here and there and ornamenting the two nagas of the Rajahs lying some distance apart and filled by the well-armed followers of the chiefs, one of whom was heartily cheered by those assembled as he slowly walked in company with his French companion to take his seat, before, in response to three or four sonorous notes from a gong, the yellow-uniformed rowers dipped their oars lightly, to keep the dragon-boat in mid-stream so that it might be borne swiftly onward.
The young Rajah Hamet remained some few minutes longer, after taking his leave of the Major and officers, and then, accompanied by Captain Down and Archie, he walked slowly along to where a guard of the English infantry was drawn up, the chief’s men being waiting in their places, ready to push off.
“Don’t take this as a compliment,” said the young Malay. “It is all sincere, and I can make you very welcome in good old English fashion as long as you like to stay—you, Captain Down, and you, Maine. You make the Captain come too. I promise you plenty of sport. My shikaris know their business. Once more, good-night.”
He stepped back, the long, live-looking boat glided off, and the rowers’ oars dipped with the vim and accuracy of an eight-oared racer on the Thames. But she made head slowly against the swift stream, while, as the young men watched her, their eyes rested upon the fire-flies glittering amongst the overhanging trees upon the banks, and all at once there was a loud splash just ahead of where the naga was gliding.
“What’s that—some one overboard?” said the Captain.
“No, sir,” said a deep British voice from just behind where the young officers stood; “only one of them great, scaly varmints getting out of the way.”
“Oh, it’s you, Sergeant,” said Archie quickly; and then, on the impulse of the moment, the lad laid his hand on the big non-com’s arm and said hurriedly, “I’ve had it out with the Major, Ripsy, and it’s all right now. But it was all my fault. Don’t be too hard on poor Pegg.”
The Sergeant’s reply was checked by a question from the Captain: