“Well, well,” he replied, good-humoredly, “perhaps it is, Claud; still, to find oneself suddenly converted into a traitor, from no cause of his own, and with a fair prospect of being hanged, drawn, and quartered, or some such agreeable ending, is enough to make a fellow grumble. It is, as one may say, all he gets for his money. But, come,” he added, “let us bestir ourselves and think a little, for, among us, we may yet hit upon some plan of escape.”
Well, we did think, and that as silently and diligently as possible, for some two or three hours; but then, taking stock of our thoughts, the result proved nil, and something like a feeling of despair stole over us.
“What’s that?” exclaimed I, suddenly breaking a prolonged silence; and we all jumped to our feet. Ere, however, a word was spoken, the door turned upon its hinges, and the chief himself, attended by a slave bearing a lantern, stood in the room.
Instinctively our hands sought the handles of our weapons; but the chief, waving his hand, as if to assure us he intended no harm, bade the slave place the lantern upon the floor and quit the dungeon; then, addressing Prabu, he said,—
“Son of Surapati, I come to tell thee that thou and thy companions are free to depart. I did but have thee brought here for thine own safety. Thou wast publicly denounced by the Chinese dog, as one for whose head the hated Hollanders have offered a reward, and thus was I compelled to appear thine enemy, for even in my own palace are there spies to be found.”
“Chief,” replied Prabu, with dignity—a greater dignity than I had ever seen him assume; “this is generous—noble! but only what, from thy manner, I expected; and well I guessed that a descendant of the once royal house of Mojopahit could keep but a hollow truce, a mock amity, with the hereditary foes of his race.”
“Allah be praised,” replied the chief, “that I have it in my power to preserve the sole descendant of the truest Javanese who ever lived! But get thee at once from this place; a guide and horses await you all at the entrance to the forest.”
“How, O Prince,” exclaimed Prabu, with astonishment, “the prahu is a mere hull, but it will float us yet out of danger.”
“Not so: a Dutch ship of war has, even within the last three hours, entered the harbor, and in the morning the captain will claim thee as his prisoner.”
“But the prahu—the cargo, they are the property of his highness, thy sovereign and mine, and I may not desert them with life.”