“Kati, hast already forgotten the service I did thee, thou art so ready to play thyself into slavery to this dog of a Chinese? Are the men of Bali so ungrateful that they so easily forget their benefactors?”
At the touch upon his arm, Kati turned fiercely round, but, seeing and hearing who it was, he fell at his feet, exclaiming: “Pardon, oh! my master; an evil demon possessed thy servant, and he forgot that he was about to play away that which, like his life, was his master’s.”
The new-comer then, throwing to the Chinese the amount of silver for which Kati had staked and lost his creese, took up the weapon, and, giving it to the sailor, said—
“Now, get thee at once to the prahu, and as you value your life, and, more, my friendship, leave it not till I come on board; for, lion as thou art at sea and in the caves, among thieves and gamesters thou art but a silly mouse.”
In an instant the sailor proceeded towards the harbor, and his master turned towards us. We had recognized the voice: it was Prabu.
“Allah is great! My young masters here, and by themselves!” he exclaimed, with surprise; but then, as if a sudden thought had occurred to him, he asked, in a whisper: “Does ‘my lady’ and Mynheer know of your being here?”
“No, Prabu,” said Martin; and he was about to tell him a portion of our story, but the latter, interrupting him, said:
“Then if my young masters do not desire their whereabouts to reach their ears, let them follow, but at a distance, as if they knew me not;” and, without another word, he proceeded along the bank of the canal, but in an opposite direction to that taken by Kati.
“Shall we follow him, Martin?” said I, doubtfully.
“Of course. Why not? It is a good omen, don’t you see, that chance, the Providence of fools, is about to befriend us. Perhaps he is going nest-hunting, and will take us with him.”