How it was that no one saw us from the prison side I am at a loss to understand. I can only attribute it to the fortunate darkness of the night; for had the moon been visible we must certainly have been discovered.
As soon as Veneda reached the ground I slipped down the rope to his side, and with the assistance of the Malay bore him to the cab. Then, without waiting to ascertain the condition of the unfortunate sentry, who still lay where I had thrown him, off we set as fast as the pony could take us in the direction of the port.
At the best of times, and under the most pleasant circumstances, it is a miserable drive; but with a sick man to support, for Veneda had not yet returned to consciousness, a treacherous Malay to watch, and my own balance in the tiny cart to keep, it was one long-continued horror.
The awkwardness of my position was increased ten-fold by Veneda's insensibility, for, not being able to speak Malay myself, I had no one now to fall back upon. I could only repeat "Tanjong Priok, Tanjong Priok," over and over again, prefacing my remarks with a guilder, and accompanying each repetition with hints of more. But such was my despair, that had my driver attempted to play me false, I believe I should have terminated his existence without thinking twice about the matter.
The endurance of the little rat of a pony was nothing short of marvellous; along heavy roads, through slushy pools, up and down hill, he dashed with a vigour of which, had I not seen it for myself, I should hardly have believed him capable. Now and again the moon struggled out between the clouds to reveal a waste of horrible country. Dense mangrove swamps, reeking paddy fields, slimy canals, funereal barges, and native dwellings slid past us, like the ever-changing patterns of a kaleidoscope.
Once or twice my companion showed signs of returning consciousness, but it was only for a few seconds, and after each he inevitably sank back again into his former comatose condition. Seeing him so long in this state, I began to be alarmed for his life, and even seriously contemplated abandoning the flight and taking refuge somewhere, until I could bring trustworthy medical advice to his assistance. But this extreme measure was, after all, not necessary, for as we approached the port he opened his eyes.
"What's the matter?" he asked faintly, trying to lift his head up to look about him.
I explained as briefly as I could, and asked him how he felt.
"I don't know," he said; "somehow I seem to be dead below my waist. What happened to me? Oh, I remember, that cursed rope."
Turning his face to the driver he said something in Malay, to which the boy offered a vigorous reply.