“Fear not,” replied the prince, “for while in this port, by my treaty with the Dutch, they are mine. But,” he added, “hasten, lose no time, and place this letter in the hands of his highness the Pangeran; it will acquit thee of all blame; nay, raise thee in his esteem.”
A minute’s reflection, and Prabu replied,—
“Chief, I cannot but believe thee, I consent; we will seek the forest, and there remain till this Dutch ship has taken her departure.”
“Not so,” replied the chief, “you must at once seek the Pangeran, who has quitted Pugar, and is now at Marang.”
“God is great!” exclaimed Prabu, surprised, and not without cause, for Marang was several hundreds of miles nearer than Pugar, at which province he believed the Pangeran then to be. “But,” he added, “the chief is right: I must at once seek the Pangeran.”
“But suppose this is all a hoax,” said Martin, with rude bluntness.
“Even then,” replied Prabu, coolly, “our danger will be no greater than now. It will be but the meeting with a similar misfortune by another means. Better fall by the hands of a treacherous Javanese than be slain by the dogs of Hollanders.”
“A matter of taste, that; I should prefer the latter,” replied my brother.
Then the Chief, who, to my astonishment, instead of exhibiting the wild anger so common to his race, at the smallest insult, either fancied or real, merely smiled at the words.
“The young Sahib,” he said, “must have suffered great misfortunes, for his heart to be so full of suspicion. But no more words, haste ye all,” he added, as he opened the door and pointed to the guide, who, with four small horses, stood awaiting us at a little distance.