"Yes, do. I don't want the poor girl to be disappointed; and you will take care of her?"

"Of course!"

Archie was turning to go, when the Doctor caught him by the arm. "There's no need. I will jump up on the elephant as soon as I have got my bag, and go round by headquarters and make it right with the Major."

"Yes, sir, do. Capital!—But no, no. He sent me to find out, and he won't like it. I must go, Doctor."

"What! am I not surgeon to this force, and are not all officers under me? Here, I will make him like it. You mind what I say—I give you leave to go."

Just then Minnie and her aunt came to the door with the Doctor's bag, and Archie hesitated.

"Look here, Minnie," he cried, hurrying to her side; "I am going to—No, no," he said, giving his foot a stamp, "I can't! I will not, Doctor. Here, I will run on and get back. Look here; you see how important it is. Here's Down coming as hard as he can to see why I have been so long."

"Confound you, sir!" cried the Doctor. "And when I'd settled the whole thing!—Here, you, Down, what do you want?"

The Captain came up quickly, and the state of affairs was explained, ending with the new-comer being introduced to the two Malay officers.

"Look here," said the Doctor, turning to the Captain; "you explain everything to the Major, and tell him I am off at once to Palm-Tree Palace, and am keeping Archie Maine here to take my place for an hour or two. You understand?"

"Quite," said the Captain.

"Maine thinks, as the Major has sent him with a message to me, that he ought to go back; but your coming and the answer I send by you, I consider, will be sufficient to exonerate your subaltern. What do you say?"

"Oh yes, sir; quite sufficient."

"Now, Archie, my lad, are you satisfied?"

Archie turned to the Captain.

"Give me your leave too."

"Certainly. I will make it right with the Major."

"All right, then, Doctor," said Archie; and, satisfied now by the Captain going off with the required information, the lad stayed, busied himself with Mrs Morley and Minnie; and after seeing the Doctor mount the kneeling elephant with his bag and instruments, and then wishing him good speed, they stood watching the great, slowly pacing beast till, as it turned off to reach the forest path, there was a final wave of the hand from the Doctor, and the next minute he was out of sight.

"That's being a doctor's wife, Minnie, my child; one never knows what to expect. Well, there, your uncle has gone off to do good. I never liked that Rajah's looks, but I hope he isn't badly hurt. Now then, what about this trip on the water? I really don't like your going, my dear."

"Oh auntie, how can you be so nervous?"

"I didn't like your going even when your uncle was here."

"But, Mrs Morley, there's nothing to be nervous about," cried Archie.

"My dear boy—"

"I say, hang it all, Mrs Morley! you might call me a man now," said Archie, interrupting her speech.

"Yes, my dear, I have plenty of confidence in you; but it's only you."

"Why, there will be the Resident's two chief boatmen, won't there?—You said there would be two men, didn't you, Minnie?"

"Yes, of course; and we shouldn't be above an hour or two, aunt."

"No, I know, my dear; but—but—"

"There, aunt dear, uncle's going away so suddenly has upset you, and it does seem selfish of me.—Look here, Archie, it's very kind of you to offer to take me, but it would be inconsiderate of me to go. I'll give it up."

"Oh!" cried the lad, "I am disappointed."

"Yes, of course you would be," said Mrs Morley; "and it's foolish of me to make such a fuss about nothing. There, I am better now. I was a bit flurried by the Doctor going, to be away all night, and leaving us unprotected."

"And not a British soldier near," said Archie laughingly.

"Of course; of course," said Mrs Morley. "You will take great care of her, my dear boy?"

"Take care of her!" cried Archie. "Why, Sir Charles would have me out and shoot me, or wring my neck, if I didn't. Look here, madam, I'm too fond of Lieutenant Archibald Maine to run any risks. Now are you satisfied?"

"Quite," said the Doctor's wife, forcing a laugh.—"There, my dears, be off as soon as you can—but wait till I get a scarf."

"What are you going to do, auntie?"

"See you down to the boat, of course, my dear." A very few minutes later the Doctor's wife was standing on the banks of the river watching the Resident's handsomely fitted sampan—not his official dragon-boat— being punted by two sturdy men up the glistening waters, Minnie turning from time to time to wave her hand, and lastly her scarf, just as they disappeared.

"It is foolish of me to be so nervous and frightened about crocodiles," said Mrs Morley, as she turned her straining eyes from where she had been watching the boat. "There isn't a sign of any of the horrible reptiles; and if it were dangerous those people would not be going up the river in the same direction;" and she remained watching a small naga with about half-a-dozen men plying their oars, sending the slightly built craft steadily up-stream. "Ah, well, I want to see them back. What a lovely evening it is going to be; but how rapidly the night closes in! I almost wish I had gone with them, for it will be very lovely when the moon begins to rise among the trees."

The Doctor's wife gave a slight shiver as a faint waft of wind came sweeping over the tops of the forest trees, and she drew her scarf lightly over her head and shoulders as she quickened her steps to return to the bungalow. "It's not cold," she said half uneasily, "and yet I shivered. It's as if the nervous feeling were coming back. Two hours! Well, they will soon slip by."



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

A GREAT HORROR.

Those two hours did soon slip away, and after assuring herself by the clock that the time had really fled, Mrs Morley went and stood in the veranda, gazing out in the full expectation of seeing those for whom she waited coming up from the direction of the river.

The night was glorious. The nearly full moon was silvering the tops of the trees and casting deep, black shadows on the ground. Here and there in the patches of thick shrubbery that had been planted to take off the harsh formality surrounding the parade, there were faint, twinkling sparks that gave a suggestion of how beautiful the river-sides must be where the lights of the curious insects flashed and died out and lit up again in full force; and for some minutes Mrs Morley stood breathing in the sweet, moist perfume of the many night blooms which floated on the air.

"It is very, very beautiful," she sighed, "but not like home. One tries to get used to it, and does for a time; but there is always that strange feeling of insecurity which will suggest what might happen—we so few, the people here so many, and always looking upon us as infidel intruders who have forced themselves up here to make a home in their very midst. I am too impatient," she added, with a sigh, as she turned to walk to and fro in the veranda.

"I am too impatient," she repeated. "On such a beautiful night they would easily be tempted to go a little farther up the river than they intended, and they would tell the men to let the boat float gently back with the stream. They have tired the men, perhaps, and have told them to leave the boat to itself. Yes, a lovely night."

She went in, with a sigh, to speak to her two native servants and tell them that they need not stay up; but she found her care unnecessary, for they were already asleep. Then, obeying her next impulse, she woke them, telling one to wait and the other to walk with her as far as the river-side.

Here she stood with the woman, watching and trying to pierce the soft, grey mist that hung above the water, before looking round for some one— boatman, or any other native whom she could question. But there was not a soul within sight, and as proof of the lateness of the hour, not a light was to be seen.

"Ah!" she cried, with a start, for the woman behind her had suddenly caught her by the wrist with one hand, while she stood with the other outstretched, pointing up the stream. "What is it?" she said. "Can you see the boat?"

"No. Listen."

"Ah! You hear them coming?"

The woman shook her head violently.

"Croc," she whispered; and her word was followed by a light, wallowing splash.

"Ugh!" ejaculated the Doctor's wife, with a shudder. "Come back. They may have returned by the other path and called at the officers' quarters. They are waiting for us by now perhaps," she added to herself.

Leading the way back to the bungalow, she hurried in, with straining ears, with the hope that the pair would come out to meet her slowly dying away.

"They must have come back directly we went out, learned that we had gone down to the river, and followed us."

Stepping in quickly to the servants' part of the bungalow, she found the other servant fast asleep, ready to stare at her vacantly and wonderingly as she was shaken into wakefulness. The woman had to be spoken to by her fellow-servant before anything could be got from her; and then it was only to learn that the expected ones had not returned.

"Something must have happened," said the Doctor's wife, fighting hard now to keep back the horrible forebodings that were troubling her. "Oh! this is not being a woman," she said. "Come back with me to the river."

The woman hesitated, but Mrs Morley caught her hand, and they hurried back to the river-side, where, before many minutes of excited watching had passed, at least a dozen horribly suggestive splashes had been heard far out upon the flowing stream.

"Come back," she whispered to her companion. "I cannot bear it. What!" she ejaculated, as the woman crept more closely to her and whispered something in her ear. "Those horrid creatures drag people into the river sometimes? Yes, yes; I know—I know. Come back. Perhaps they have come," she continued, trying to speak firmly; and once more she hurried to the bungalow, to find the other servant again fast asleep.

The clock showed that it only wanted a few minutes to midnight, and setting her teeth hard in her determination, the trembling woman gave herself till twelve before starting for the officers' quarters and the Residency to give the alarm.

As she reached the gate she became aware of lights in the distance, evidently going in the direction of the river lower down. Voices, too, floated on the night air, and her spirits rose, for she was conscious of a merry laugh. It could not mean trouble, and she stopped short, watching the lights that seemed now to have stopped by the river's bank, trying to fit them in somehow with a solution of her trouble. Still all was mental darkness, when she was conscious of a shout or two which made her start, but only to realise directly afterwards as she heard replies, followed by the splash of oars, that some one must be departing in a boat.

Then came the murmur of talking as the little party appeared to be not coming towards her but striking off diagonally in the direction of the officers' quarters and the Residency.

A loud cry escaped her. It was answered, and the next minute hurrying feet were approaching her, and a voice exclaimed:

"Anything the matter?"

"Yes, yes!" panted the agitated woman.

"Who is it? Mrs Morley?"

"Yes. Help, Captain Down—I—I—" and, trembling and half-breathless, she clung to the speaker as he caught her hands in his.

"The Resident's boat?" she panted.

"No, no—Rajah Hamet's. We have been to see him off."

"Oh, you don't understand! The Resident's boat—Mr Maine—"

"Ah! What of him?"

"Went up the river with my niece."

"Yes, yes—what of them?"

"Not come back!"

"Oh! Well, well, don't be alarmed.—Why, you are trembling like a leaf."

"Yes. I can't help it. It is foolish perhaps. I am terribly alarmed."

"Oh, come, come! I will walk back with you to the bungalow.—You go on, Durham; and you might tell the Resident that I am seeing Mrs Morley home."

"Yes; all right!" came out of the darkness. "Shall I say that the boat's not come back?"

"Oh yes. You might mention it."

"Yes—yes, pray tell him," added Mrs Morley, as the young officer addressed was continuing his route.

"Let's see," said the Captain; "the Doctor's gone off to see to the Rajah, hasn't he?"

"Yes."

"Ah, I see; and you are nervous from being left alone."

"No, no, Captain Down. I am afraid that something has happened to the boat."

"Yes, of course; ladies always are," said the Captain cheerily, "when they are sitting up waiting. Now, now, be cool. There are scores of things that might have happened in a little expedition like this. First of all, they may have stopped to watch the fire-flies."

"Oh yes, but not so late."

"Well, no; but they may have gone much farther than they intended. It is very tempting on a night like this."

"But I begged Archie Maine to be back in good time."

"Archie Maine is only a boy, and thoughtless; and I dare say Miss Heath would be delighted with the trip; and then there would be night-blooming flowers to look at, the noises of the jungle to listen to, and the splashing of the croc—"

"Oh, for pity's sake, don't, Captain Down!"

"Oh, well, I won't. Now then, my dear lady, let's get back to the bungalow, and you give me one of Morley's best cigars—not those out of the old cedar box, please; one of those will do very well for Archie Maine when he comes—and I will sit down in the veranda and chat with you till the truants return; and then you can scold your niece, after giving Archie the bad cigar. That will be punishment enough for him, for he will be vain enough to try to smoke it, though a thin cigarette makes him poorly, poor fellow! Now then, how do you feel now?"

"Oh, better," said Mrs Morley. "And you don't think anything could have happened, Captain Down?"

"Nothing worse than that they have gone too far and are keeping you up."

"But you don't think that the boat has been upset?"

"Certainly not. Why should I?"

"Boats are such dangerous things."

"Yes," said the Captain quietly—"in the hands of those who don't know how to use them. But Maine and your niece are not punting, and they have two of Dallas's best men."

"Yes," said Mrs Morley, with a sigh of relief, as they reached the gate and made their way into the veranda.

"Thank you," said the Captain, as Mrs Morley took a cigar-box from a shelf and then lit a cedar-wood match at the table lamp. "I wonder how the Doctor's going on," he continued, as he lit his cigar.

"Ah, I wonder too," said Mrs Morley.

"Hope the poor beggar isn't much hurt. But Mr Stripes' claws are rather ugly things. Ah, well, lucky for him that he's got a Doctor Morley to call into the wilderness. Hullo! Footsteps! What did I tell you? Here they come! In a hurry, too."

But the distant sound of steps was not duplicated. They were those of one only, coming at a rapid rate; and directly after the Resident dashed open the garden gate.

"What's this I hear?" he cried excitedly. "The boat not back?"

He listened for a few moments to Mrs Morley's once more excited words; but he half-interrupted her before she had done, by exclaiming:

"Here they come! I have told the Major, and he is turning out the men. For Heaven's sake, Mrs Morley, try and be calm."

"I am trying, Sir Charles. But my husband absent! How can I look him in the face when he comes back?"

"Oh, hush, hush!" whispered the Resident, pressing her hand so hard that she could hardly bear it.

"You are taking the very blackest view of the matter. It may be a trifle—one of the poles broken, or they may have ventured too far."

"Don't talk, pray," said Mrs Morley. "Never mind me. Do something! Act!"

"I am acting, and for the best," whispered Sir Charles. "I would give my life to save Minnie if she is in danger, but I feel it my duty to try to comfort you."

The next minute he was busy with the officers and the men, hurrying along the river-bank and sending off boats up the stream, in one of which—his own, manned by a dozen men—he was standing with Captain Down and the Major, watching the sides of the river, sometimes plunged in black darkness, at others glistening in the light of the moon, which had now risen far above the trees. But they had not been gone above half-an-hour before news came, to run through the ranks of the searchers left behind, some of whom, on the possibility that those sought might have had an accident with the boat and been compelled to land and fight their way through the jungle, had penetrated some distance along the path nearest to the river-side, and been recalled by one of the officers' whistles.

On hurrying back they had encountered the Sergeant going the rounds, who had to announce that the sentry stationed at the hut above the chief landing-place was missing, and no answer could be obtained to the calls that should have reached his ears had he been anywhere near.

It was a night of excitement, misery, and despair, and the short dawn, when it broke, brought not hope but horror and dismay, for all at once, when the morning mist was lying heavily upon the lower reach of the river, the sound of oars was heard approaching the campong, and as it neared the lower landing-place, to which several of the party hurried, it seemed quite a long space of time before the heads of the rowers began to come gradually out of the grey fog; and soon after it was made out to be Rajah Hamet's naga, or dragon-boat, towing behind it a second boat that had been overturned.

The news was passed inward, and this brought the Major to the landing-place, where the Rajah was waiting.

"Ah!" cried the old officer, "you have brought news?"

The young Rajah bent his head.

"Yes," he said hoarsely. "Is this your boat?"

"Yes, yes—the Resident's—Sir Charles's. Been overturned?"

"We found it amongst the trees far down the river. One of my men caught sight of this hanging in a bush;" and he held up a large, thin, gauzy-looking white scarf, torn almost in two.

"Ah!" gasped the Major, as he caught at the flimsy wrapper, now partially dry. "And—and—you were going to say something else, sir?"

"Yes," said the young Rajah, with something like a groan. "But tell me, do you know whose was this?"

He brought forward from behind him an officer's forage-cap, about which a torn puggaree clung like a wisp.

"Great heavens!" panted the Major. "Oh, my poor, dear boy!—Where did you find this, sir?"

"Part of the boat's bows were crushed in as if by a blow. This cap was held down by one of the splinters."

Just then voices came floating down the river, indicating that some of the party were returning from their search to the upper landing-place; and soon after the Resident's naga had reached the stage, and the principal occupants sprang out to hear about the missing sentry, and to give no news. The last discovery was whispered to them in broken tones, and as what seemed to be the terrible fate of the small boat's occupants was told by the Major to Sir Charles, he literally reeled away from where he had been standing, and staggered onwards with extended hands, as if making for the bungalow. But before he had gone many steps he stopped short, to whisper hoarsely, "Who is that?"

"I, Sir Charles," said Captain Down.

"Thank you. Take my hand, please. I am giddy, and half-blind. Something seems to have gone wrong. I cannot think. Please help me, and lead me home.—No; stop," he added. "That poor woman! Some one must tell her. She must know; and I can't—I can't be the bearer. Oh, it is too horrible! My fault, too.—Ah! Who is that? You, Down? I thought you had gone. Don't let me fall. This giddiness again. Yes, I remember now. The Doctor! He was called away to go to the Rajah's help. Has he returned? Has he—"

His lips parted to say more, but his words were inaudible, and at a signal from the Captain four of the men hurried up, to lace their hands into a bearing, and, keeping step, they bore the insensible man to the Residency.

It was late in the burning afternoon, after the overturned and much-damaged boat had been lying to dry in the hot sun for hours, and the terrible mishap had been canvassed in every detail, when a sentry passed the word that an elephant was approaching with strangers.

The strangers proved to be the Doctor, one of Suleiman's officials, and the mahout; while as soon as the news reached headquarters, Major Knowle hurried out, bareheaded, to meet his friend, and stood in the shade of one of the great palm-trees, signalling to the mahout to stop.

"Morning!" shouted the Doctor cheerily as he drew near. "Patient's all right, Knowle, and the Frenchman only frightened into a fit. Phew! It is hot, eh? What are you holding up your hand for? Nothing wrong?"

The Major was holding on by the ordinary trappings of the howdah, and reaching up as he raised himself on tiptoe, he almost whispered his terrible news, while the florid, erst happy-looking Doctor looked blankly down.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

PETER'S SENTRY-GO.

Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp, up and down on the regular beat, sometimes in the full silvery moonlight, sometimes in the shade cast by the hut; one minute only the footsteps to break the silence, or the wallowing plash of one of the great reptiles that haunted the river-deeps.

"That's cheerful!" muttered the sentry. "Ain't so bad, though, as old Joe made it out when he was doing his sentry-go below there, close to the water. My word, how clear it is to-night! I should just like to have a regular old-fashioned sentry-box down there, close to the landing-place, with a good, strong door to it as one could fasten tight, and loopholes in the sides, and plenty of cartridges ready for a night's shooting. I'd let some of 'em have it! Wouldn't it make 'em savage, though! They'd come out and turn the box over if it was not well pegged down. Wouldn't do much good, though, if I hit every time, for lots more of the ugly beggars would come. Mister Archie says they lay eggs. Pretty chickens they must be when they are hatched. Hullo! what boat's that?"

For the plashing of poles reached his ears, and the dark form of a good-sized sampan came round a curve, with its attap awning glistening softly like dead silver in the moonlight.

The sentry waited in the shade of the hut till the boat came nearer, and then challenged, when a familiar voice responded:

"That you, Peter Pegg?"

"Mister Archie, sir! Yes, sir."

"It's all right. We are going up the river a little way in the moonlight. Beautiful night!"

"Yes, sir; lovely, sir. I'd be on the lookout, sir, though."

"What for?"

"Them alligator things, sir. I have heard a good many of them knocking about there."

"Oh, they won't come near us with the men splashing as they pole us along."

The boat passed on, and as the sentry had a glimpse of a white face and the folds of a veil he stood musing and watching till the boat had passed and disappeared.

"No," he thought, "I don't suppose the brutes will go near them. They soon scuttle off when they hear a splash. Nice to be him, enj'ying hisself with his lady. Wonder who it is. Miss Doctor, perhaps. Nice girl. But he's only a boy. Wish I was a officer. I used to think it would be all the same for us when I 'listed. My word, how the Sergeant did lay on the butter and jam! And talked about the scarlet, and being like a gentleman out here abroad with the niggers to wait on us—and then it comes to this! Sentry-go for hours in a lonely place like this here, with crocklygaters hanging about to see if you go to sleep to give them a chance to make a grab. Yes, they make a fellow feel sleepy! Just likely, ain't it?"

Peter Pegg's thoughts seemed to animate him, and for a turn or two he changed his pace from a slow march to double.

"Steady, my lad!" he muttered. "There ain't no hurry;" and he dropped back into the regular pace, and began thinking about the boat and its occupants.

"Nice young lady she is; and I suppose that there Sir Charles is going to make a match with her, for she and Mister Archie always seem just like brother and sister. I suppose he ain't been well. Been precious quiet lately. Can't have offended him, for he was as jolly as could be last time I saw him. He's getting more solid-like and growed up. But my word, what fun we have had together sometimes! And what a row there would have been if we had been found out! It wouldn't have done. But it has cheered me up many a time when I have had the miserables and felt as if I'd like to cut sojering and make for home. It was nice to have a young officer somewheres about your own age ready for a lark. Poor old Mother Smithers, and that brown juice—what do they call it—cutch and gambia?—as dyes things brown. The officers' clean shirts as was washed in that water—haw, haw, haw!—What's that?"

The listener brought his piece to the ready, and the click, click of the lock followed instantly upon a shrill cry which seemed to thrill the sentry along every nerve.

"Is it the crocs?" he thought; and then close upon the distant sound of blows and a splash or two came in Archie's well-known but now excited tones:

"Sentry Pegg! Help!"

The young private obeyed his first instinct, and that was, instead of firing, to give the alarm, to run down as fast as he could to the water's edge and plunge in amongst the scattered, overhanging trees, making as well as he could judge for the direction from which the cries had arisen.

"Here! Coming! Coming!" he panted, as he rushed in where the trees were thickest, to become, directly after, conscious of a figure starting up from behind a bush that he had just passed, and from which, glittering and flashing, came the sparkle of quite a little cloud of fire-flies.

The lad swung himself round as he scented danger, and struck back with the butt of his rifle; but it was only to miss his assailant and expose his head to a blow from the other side—so heavy a stroke from a formidable, club-like weapon that he dropped, with a faint groan, while from the direction of the boat right out towards the middle of the river there was a resumption of the plashing of poles.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

A STRANGE FEVER.

It was to Archie Maine like a bad attack of the fever from which he had suffered when he first went up-country in the gunboat from Singapore. There was that horrible beating and throbbing in his head, only intensely more confusing than it had been then; and sometimes, when he could think and everything did not seem mentally upside-down, he was being puzzled by two questions. One was, "Is it jungle fever?" the other, "Is it the throbbing and beating of the gunboat engines?" And this latter he favoured the more because he felt convinced that the heat, the burning, scorching heat, in his head must be because they had put him in a berth close by the furnace fires.

Throb, throb—burn, burn—and then all nothingness for long enough. He could not move; he could not speak; he could not think; only hour after hour in the midst of the throbbing pain he felt dried up, choking with thirst, and always fighting hard to get back the power to think.

What did it all mean? Where was he? There was the throbbing as of the engines, and the heat, but somehow he felt that he could not be on the gunboat. For once in a way there was a roar as of wild beasts; then it was not the roar of wild beasts, for it seemed to be the blast of a bugle, out of tune, harsh, and blown by some horrible giant, so big, so vast, so confusing that, as he was trying to think what it could be and why, everything was all confusion again. If he could only think! If he could only make it out, why it was, and what it was! And he was in a hurry to do this. It seemed as if he was struggling with all his might to be able to think, before everything was shut down again.

He did not know what was going to be shut down, or what there was to be shut down. He did not understand; but he could feel the awful heat, the heavy, burning, throbbing pain, and with it—there was nothing. And what was nothing? Nothing but darkness and the great question: why?— which grew and grew and grew till it became bigger and bigger and resolved itself into something going round and round; and that something seemed to be why he could not think.

How long this went on Archie did not know; but after a time in the darkness there seemed to come a faint dawning like a feeble ray of light, which suggested that he must be at home in England on a frightfully hot day, lying down on one of the benches in the Lion House at the Zoo. For there was that tremendous giant's roar or trumpeting sound, and this must, he knew, be one of the savage beasts, and had something to do with his having suddenly dropped to sleep and being wakened by the bellowing sound.

Then more darkness—silence—the ever-increasing confusion and whir, and nothingness, till some time or other there was a fresh coming of the dawn, in the midst of which he felt something that seemed wonderfully cool and moist laid upon his head, and a voice that seemed to come from miles away whispered:

"Poor old chap!"

Then all was dark again, and he seemed to be dreaming of the fever and the doctor that was talking to him and telling him that there were six of the men just as bad as he was, and that he was to take that. He could think now, for he distinctly heard him say:

"Tip it up. It will do you good."

And somehow the engines seemed to have been stopped, and he felt as if he was being lifted on to some one's arm away from the tremendous heat of the engine fires, and he knew it was the Doctor—good old Morley!— who was holding a very hard wooden cup to his lips for him to drink the medicine. No, it was not nasty; it was beautifully cool and good. He felt that the Doctor had put in so much water that he could not taste the physic; and he drank on and on, every drop seeming to make it easier at last to think. And then the cup was being taken from his lips, and he tried to raise his hand to catch it and hold it so that he might drink more; but his arm fell as if nerveless, and he uttered a deep groan.

"Oh, come!" rose to his ears now, as if from a long way off. "That's something! Ain't going to die this time."

"Not going to die this time," some one whispered, as if it were breathed with a hot breath upon his lips; and then he lay thinking in a very feeble way, and feeling the while so tired, as a great longing came over him to go to sleep. It seemed like hours before that longing was fulfilled; and then he woke up not knowing why or wherefore, or grasping anything but that it was dark, black dark; and then he felt, with a strange sense of agony, that all his trouble was returning, for the trumpeting roar thundered through his brain, and he lay perfectly still as the deep sound ceased, ending with a peculiar kind of snort and a squeal, feeling that there was no pain, and beginning to wonder why.

Time passed again—how long a time it was beyond him to grasp—but there was that peculiar trumpeting roar once more, and somehow it did not trouble him so much. The fancy that he was in the Lion House had faded away, and he became conscious of the Doctor passing his arm under his neck and raising him, while the wooden cup was being held to his lips— cool, sweet, delicious—it was one great joy to feel the soft draught running over his parched tongue and down his throat.

Then he started, and he felt some of the contents of the cup trickle down his chin, for there was a shrill trumpeting noise again as the desire to exert himself came, and he exclaimed:

"What's that?"

It was only in a whisper, but the Doctor—no, it was not the Doctor; it was some one whose voice he knew—said excitedly:

"Helephants." And then, "I say, Mister Archie, sir, you're a-coming round!"

That was too much for him. He wanted to ask what it meant—why it was Peter Pegg who had been holding up his head, and not the Doctor—but he could not form the words for the deep, heavy sleepiness which came over him; and then all was darkness once more, mental and real.

Long enough after, Archie Maine found himself thinking again, and wondering where he was and why it was so dark; but he could make out nothing, till he gradually began to feel about him, slowly, cautiously, as if in dread of something about to happen, for the sensation was horrible of being nowhere and in danger of falling should he move. Then there was a sudden feeling of consciousness, for he touched a hot hand, and a familiar voice said:

"'Wake, sir? Like a drink?"

"Yes. That you, Pete?"

"Me it is, sir. Lie still, and I will give you a cocoa-nut-shellful of water, and—and—Oh my! Oh my! Oh Lor'! I can't help it!"

And Archie lay thinking clearly enough now, and wondering why it was that the big fellow who had spoken crouched close by him quivering, and the hand that had grasped his roughly was shaking violently, as he lay there blubbering and sobbing with all his might.

"What's the matter?" whispered Archie, in the midst of his wonder.

"Oh, it's only me, sir," cried the lad in a choking voice. "I couldn't help it. It would ha' been just the same if I'd been on parade. It would come. It's been ready to bust out all this time. I thought you was going to die, sir—I thought you was going to die!"

"Die, Pete! No! What for?"

"Don't you know, sir?"

"No-o," said Archie wonderingly.

"Here, stop a minute; let me give you some water."

And in the darkness Archie lay listening to the pleasant, musical, trickling sound of falling water; while directly after, as he felt the private's hand passed under his neck, he made an effort to rise, and fell a-wondering again, for he could not stir.

But the next minute there was a fancied feeling of returning strength as he swallowed the cool draught with avidity, drinking till the desire came upon him to sink back with a deep sigh of content, and he felt his companion's arm withdrawn.

"Go to sleep after that, can't you?" whispered the private.

"No; I want to know what it all means."

"Hadn't you better go to sleep, sir?"

"No!" cried Archie, in a voice so full of the agony of desire that Peter spoke out excitedly:

"Well, we are prisoners, sir."

"Prisoners! How? Why?"

"I d'know, sir."

"You don't know!" panted Archie feebly. "Oh, you are trying to keep it back!"

"That I ain't, sir. I'll tell you what I do know. Somebody's took us prisoners—some of them Malay chaps. I think it must be that Rajah Hamet's men, as they says are our enemies."

"No, no; he's our friend."

"Then it must be t'other one, sir. You remember when you come by in the boat that moonlight night?"

"Boat! What moonlight night?"

"Oh, Lor' ha' mussy!" muttered Peter. "He can't be fit to talk."

"What's that you are saying to yourself? Why don't you speak?"

"Don't you remember hailing me, sir, when I was on sentry-go?"

"No."

"Nor me telling you to mind the crocs didn't try to come aboard your boat?"

"No. What are you talking about?"

"Oh, my word!" sighed Peter. "Here's a pretty go! Talk about a poor fellow being off his chump!" Then aloud, as he felt the lad's hand feebly feeling for his, "It was like this 'ere, sir. You must have got into some row with a boatful of the niggers, and they knocked you over the head."

"Knocked me over the head?" said Archie dreamily. "No, I don't remember. Here, give me some more water."

Peter Pegg hurriedly filled the cup—half a cocoa-nut shell—and Archie drank a mouthful and pushed it away.

"Let me lie down again," he said.—"Now go on. Knocked me over the head?" he said very slowly and thoughtfully, as if weighing his words. "Did you know that?"

"Yes, sir."

"You said you were on sentry?"

"That's right, sir."

"Then why didn't you come and help me?"

"I was coming, sir, bull roosh, when just as I was running along the river-bank, wondering how I was to swim out to you among them crocodiles, some one popped out from the bushes and fetched me down with an awful crack on the pan."

"Struck you down?"

"Yes, sir. Hit me crool. There's a lump on the top now as big as your fist. Regularly knocked me silly. Just as they must have served you— knocked every bit of sense out of me. There warn't much in, as old Tipsy says, but I didn't know no more till I found myself here, feeling sick as a dog, and not able to move, for I was lying awkward-like on my back, with some of them thin rotan canes tied round my arms and legs so tight that it was only at times I knowed I had any arms and legs at all."

"Poor fellow!" said Archie pityingly.

"Yes, I just have been a poor fellow, sir—poor creature, as they called them up in my part of the country. Why, I have been quite mazed-like. That topper I got seemed to do for me altogether; and when I come-to, here I was lying in this place, not knowing where I was, and, like you, sir, I couldn't make out what it meant."

"And in the darkness, too," said Archie, "just like this?"

"Like which, sir? Why, it ain't dark now!"

"Black darkness," said Archie.

The young private whistled softly and said nothing, but shook his head and thought.

"But you know what place it is, don't you, Pete?"

"Well, I suppose it's part of one of the Rajah's roosts; but, as I tell you, my head's felt so muddled, and just as if some of the works had been knocked loose, that even now I don't seem to be able to tell t'other from which. Well, I am getting it clearer now, and of course it must be at Mr Prince Suleiman's. Why, to be sure it must; and if my wheels inside had been going as they should, I should have thought it out at once. It must be at the Rajah's place, because of the helephants as you 'eerd now and then. They must have a sort of stable close by here. And then—why, of course—I'm just as 'fused-like as you are, sir—that French count chap came in to see us the other day, and talked to me."

"He came here?" said Archie in his slow, dreamy way.

"Yes, sir; that he did."

"But I want to know," said Archie, "why we were attacked like this and I was so hurt. There seems to have been no cause or reason for it."

"Well, I d'know, sir. I can't think much more than you can. Maybe we shall see it clearly as we gets better; but it looks to me as if it's his doing, out of spite, like, for our interfering with him when he came that night and Joe Smithers arrested him and gave the alarm."

"Perhaps so," said Archie. "My head's going wrong again. I can't think."

"Then you take my advice, sir: don't you try. Try and eat a bit, for it's five days since you have had a bite, counting the night we was took."

"Five days!" said Archie.

"That's right, sir. Think you could eat one of these fruits—I don't know what you call them—melons like?"

"No," said Archie, with a shudder.

"Well, I don't wonder, sir. I couldn't at first. They brought in a lot of bananas with the water, but I couldn't touch 'em at first. When that Frenchman came, though, and saw that I hadn't eaten anything, he turned rusty, and said I was trying to starve myself to death, and that it wouldn't do, because I must remember that I was a horstrich now, and I wasn't to play no tricks like that."

"Said you were an ostrich?"

"Yes, sir; that's right. I don't know why, and I thought perhaps I hadn't heard him rightly, being so muddled-like. But I'm sure now that's what he said. Perhaps he said it because he thought I was a long-legged one and meant to run away; and I should have been about doing so before now if there hadn't been reasons."

"What reasons, Pete?"

"Why, you, sir. You don't suppose I was going to cut and leave my mate in such a hole as this?"

"Ostrich?" said Archie dreamily. "What could he mean by that? Oh— prisoners! He called you a hostage, and we are to be kept as hostages for some reason connected with something that's going on."

"Ah! that's right, sir."

As the young private sat on the palm-leaf-covered floor of the wooden building, gazing at his companion in misfortune, and thinking of how changed he looked, Archie slowly closed his eyes and appeared to be asleep, though he was now trying to make up for lost time, and thinking deeply.

"Wonder what's the matter with his eyes," mused the young private. "He can't see, or else he wouldn't keep on talking about its being dark."

Suddenly Archie unclosed his eyes and said:

"Are your legs and wrists better now?"

"It's my head that was the worst, sir," was the reply.

"But you said that your legs and wrists were so cruelly tied up that the canes cut into your flesh."

"Oh yes, sir; that was at first. But when that Frenchie came in he told the Malay chaps to untie 'em, so that I could wait upon you—and precious glad I was."

"But how did you manage to see to give me the water?"

"I couldn't in the night, sir; but I can now.—It's no use to tell the poor chap that it's quite light, for he's all puzzled-like yet," thought the private. Then aloud, "I'd just go to sleep a bit now, sir, if I was you."

"What for?"

"Rest your head, sir. You will feel a deal better when you wake again, and perhaps see a bit clearer."

"Perhaps you are right, Pete," said Archie, with a sigh; "but I am better now. Most of the pain seems to be gone."

"Good luck to you, sir! I wish mine had, for there are times when I seem as if I could not think straight."

Archie made no reply, and as the young private watched him he saw that the poor fellow's eyes were once more closed; and the lad half lay on the crisp leaves, which rustled loudly at every movement, and mused on their position.

"One would expect," he said to himself, "that at any minute a company of our swaddies would be here to fetch us out of this. At the same time, one ought to be ready to help one's self. Can't do anything, of course, with Mister Archie like this; but I have got my ideas about doing something some night if I can get a chance.—Oh, there you are, my beauties! I keep on hearing you, and you set me thinking. Wonder whether I could do it if I tried. I must wait till he comes round a bit more, and then I mean to try. Wonder whether they set sentries over us. Most likely; but if they do they will have to be dodged."

There was a rumbling noise, which came from one of the elephants stabled near, and Peter Pegg shook his head slowly as if he were imitating the customary habit of a tethered elephant, and in imagination the private seemed to see one of the leg-chained beasts softly bowing its head up and down, and slowly from side to side, swinging it as if it were on springs.

"If I asked that chap who brings the water to let me see the helephants he would see through me, so I won't do it—make him 'spicious; and he wouldn't understand me if I did. His is an awful foolish lingo. Might perhaps get outside the door or window some night and have a look for them in the dark. Ah, there's no knowing what I might do when he gets better."

Private Pegg started violently, for all at once Archie started up excitedly, and sat with widely opened eyes, gazing wildly straight before him, his hands extended, and trembling violently; while, as his fellow-prisoner leaned forward and caught him by the arm to try and soothe him, believing him to be in pain, he snatched his hand away, and in a piteous cry uttered the one word:

"Minnie!"

Peter Pegg waited for a few moments, half-stunned by this new form of trouble, and offered the first palliative that occurred to him.

"Have some more water, Mister Archie," he said huskily.

"No, no! Don't you see? Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Tell you what before, sir?"

"About Miss Heath."

"About Miss Doctor, sir? It was her, then, as was with you in the boat?"

"Yes, yes! Why didn't you remind me?"

"Never thought about it, sir. I never—my word!—I—"

"Yes, yes; I see it all now! It has all come back. That blindness and misery has cleared off like a veil. Man, man! when those wretches attacked me she was with me in the boat; and we stop here, helpless and prisoners, while she—Oh for health and strength! Pegg, there's not a moment to be lost! We must escape somehow, and get back to camp. Her poor aunt! What must she think!"



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

DR. PEGG MUSES.

"Poor chap!" said Pegg, with a long-drawn sigh, as, utterly exhausted, Archie sank back upon his rough resting-place amongst the palm-leaves, and fell off at once into a deep, swoon-like sleep. "Oh! if he only won't wake again for hours and hours, for all this worrying and talking must be dreadful for him. Poor girl! She must be here somewhere, a prisoner too. If I could only find out!"

He had been bending over Archie, and was drawing away as softly as could be for fear the rustling of the leaf-bed might wake his companion again, to recommence talking in an excited way about Minnie Heath and her fate, when he heard the sound of voices, the door of the palm and bamboo building was unbarred and thrown open, and a fierce, swarthy-looking, scowling Malay, with the hilt of his kris uncovered, strode swaggeringly in, accompanied by six spear-armed natives of about his own stamp, their leader looking sharply at the two prisoners, and then about the place.

"Here, I say, don't kick up such a jolly row," said the private in a hoarse whisper. "Can't you see that the poor fellow has just dropped off to sleep?"

The big Malay turned upon him fiercely, and as he took a couple of steps nearer, the crisp, dry leaves rustled more than ever.

"Will you be quiet?" whispered the private, springing up, and with one stride planting himself threateningly before the offender, who took a step back and flashed his naked kris from its sheath, while his followers lowered their spears for his protection.

"There, put that cook's skewer away," growled the lad, as he pointed at the kris. "Can't you be quiet? Can't you see that I have got nothing to fight with? Seven on you to one wounded man! Nice, plucky lot, aren't you? Why, I'm about the youngest chap in my company, but give me my empty rifle and bay'net and fair-play, and I would take the lot on you."

Then, placing his open hands on either side of his lips as if he were about to hail somebody at a distance, he whispered hoarsely:

"Look at him. Very bad. Thought he was going to die. Can't you understand?"

Lowering his hands, he first pointed to the insensible officer, and then, treating the bared weapons which menaced him with as much contempt as if they were not there, he stepped on tiptoe close to his young companion, and stood pointing down at his terribly swollen forehead, which was not only cut but discoloured.

He stood waiting, but neither of the Malays moved, only looked at their leader as if for orders, and then gazed at one another, till he uttered a low grunt, in response to which the men raised the points of their spears and planted the butts on the ground.

Peter Pegg gave vent to a low, sneering laugh as he gazed half-jauntily at the big Malay.

"It didn't skeer me a bit," he said, "queer as I feel; but, between men—you see how bad my poor officer is—I only want you to keep those jockeys of yours quiet. Well, aren't you going to say anything when a English gentleman addresses you?"

The Malay gazed at him as if wondering at the lad's impudence, and then, scowling fiercely, he said, in a hoarse, guttural way, and trying to display his scorn for the sun-burnt, thin-featured lad, "Ingles— Ingles!"

"That's right, comrade—I mean, enemy. Well, ain't you going to say any more?"

The man made no sign, and Peter Pegg continued:

"Can't you understand plain English? Well, then, take this—apa boleh booat."

"Apa boleh booat," said the Malay, with his face relaxing a little; and he nodded his head slowly, before turning to one of his followers and pointing to the big water-jar standing near the door, which the man immediately took up and bore out as if to fill, while his leader pointed again to a neatly woven bamboo basket in which lay three or four bananas and a half-eaten cake of bread.

This too was borne out, the contents sent flying amongst the trees close by, and the basket brought back, like the big jar, replenished.

"Apa boleh booat," growled the big Malay, and he bowed his head slowly at the young soldier.

"All right; I quite agree with you," said Peter; "and now good-morning, or good-day, and don't come and bother me any more, my Royal Highness, or whatever you are, for I want to think."

The Malay leader scowled at him again, and then followed his men out of the door, which was closed loudly, and as heavy bars seemed to be fitted into sockets, Peter Pegg limped up, as if partly lamed, put his lips close to a crack, and whispered:

"Thank you. Much obliged. A little louder next time, please, for my officer's asleep."

Then he stood peering through the crack till the footsteps died away.

"Can't see much," he said; "but I wonder what apa boleh booat means. I meant it for something nasty, but the ugly beggar took it quite pleasant. It's what those sampan chaps say when they come back without catching any fish. To be sure, and I heard another chap say it when the Doctor had done strapping up his cut that time when there was a fight between the two Rajahs' men. I've picked up a lot more, too, of their lingo, but it's all mixed up together somewheres, and my head's about as muddled as poor Mister Archie's. Poor old chap! I got it too, but I'd a deal rather I'd had his topper and he'd had mine, and that's honest; for though he's a gentleman and I have only been a rough recruity, he's always been a good chap to me, and I never liked him so much as I do now when he's in such trouble. I wonder where poor Miss Minnie is."

Phoonk! came from somewhere outside, and there was a rattling as of an iron chain.

"Oh, there you are, are you?" said Peter. "The Doctor said in that lecture he gave us chaps that helephants is the most intelligent beasts there is—more so than dogs—that they get to understand all sorts of words that are spoken to them. That there phoonk, or whatever it was, sounded just like an answer to something I had said; but, of course, it couldn't be. These 'ere are Malay helephants, and 'tisn't likely they could understand English. I wish, though, this was the one that I got to be so chummy with on the sham-fight day. I'd give him half these 'ere bananas and some of the cake, for I don't feel ready to eat much, and I don't believe that when the governor wakes up he will take anything but some more water. Well, anyhow, he's better than he has been since we've been here. How long is it?"

The lad raised his hand wearily to his aching brow, and held it there for some minutes, before shaking his head sadly.

"I d'know," he said. "It's all getting mixed up again. Oh, my poor nut! How it do ache! I know what would do it good—lie down and try to go to sleep. But I can't; for so sure as I did, Mister Archie would wake up and want some water, and begin to talk about Miss Minnie. Oh dear! It's far worse than mutiny—to go to sleep when you are on sentry; and it would be ten times worse to begin to snooze now, with that poor, half-cranky chap in such a state. So I'll have one or two of them finger-stall fruit things and a good drink of water, and then lean back against the side and see how many Malay words I can remember; and if that don't keep a poor fellow awake, nothing will."

He stepped softly amongst the rustling leaves and bent down over Archie, to find that he was breathing freely, and evidently plunged in the deep sleep of exhaustion.

"That's better," he muttered; "but I should like to dip his handkerchy in that fresh, cold water and lay it on his head."

His hand was reached out to where he could just catch a glimpse of the scrap of linen in the lad's breast pocket; but he snatched his extended fingers back, and stepped away to where the basket and jar had been placed.

"Do more harm than good," he muttered. "When I was in orspittle, I remember old Morley said that sleep was the something that did something to set wounded fellows up again, and if I got sopping his head, poor chap! it would wake him up as sure as eggs is eggs." Then he went down on his knees, picked up the cocoa-nut cup, filled it to the brim, and very slowly trickled the contents down his throat. "Hah!" he sighed. "Lovely!" as he held up the empty cup. "That's just the sort of stuff as would do old Joe Smithers a world of good.—Thankye; yes, I will take another, as you are so pressing;" and with a contented grin upon his dirty face, grimed with perspiration and the dried stains from a cut, he refilled the shell cup, drank the contents, replaced the little vessel balanced upside-down upon the edge of the rough earthen jar, and then swung himself round into a sitting position, wincing and half-groaning with pain as he did so, leant his aching head against the thickly plaited palm wall, and reached out for the basket, from which he picked one of the largest golden plantains.

"There's plenty," he said softly, "and three of them just about ought to set me up."

Then methodically breaking off the end of the one he had chosen, he began to strip off the thick skin, letting each portion hang over his hand, as the creamy, white, vegetable-like fruit became bared half-way down; and then, with a sigh, he took a bite.

"That second cup of Adam's ale was better than the first," he said appreciatively, "and this 'ere's the best banana I ever nibbled. We used to say at home that they was like tallow candle and sleepy pear, but this one—my word, it's heavenly!"

He took another bite, munching it slowly, with his head sinking down gently as if to meet his hand, which came up with some effort, ready for the next bite; and then, with his lower jaw impeded by resting upon his chest, it ceased to move, the hand that held the banana sank into his lap, the half-peeled fruit escaped from his fingers, and not one of the many Malay words that he was about to remember obtained utterance, for after the watching and disturbed sleep of nights, Nature would do no more, and Peter Pegg was sleeping more deeply than he had ever slept in his life before.



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

PETER'S FRIEND.

Phoonk! Then a peculiar squeal and grunting sound, and then once again, Phoonk!

Peter Pegg started up into a sitting position, vacant of face and staring at the straightly streaked rays of sunshine that made their way through the plaited and latticed sides of the stable-like building in which he had dropped to sleep.

"What's all that row?" he muttered. "Where am I?"

He rubbed his eyes; and then, as the grunting, snorting noise continued, "What does it all mean?" he went on. "Why, I've been asleep, and was dreaming something about old Bobby Hood's pigs at home, grunting. Am I dreaming now? Them ain't pigs. Here, I know—helephants!"

He turned his face to the side of the place against which he had been leaning, drew himself up, and applied his eyes to one of the cracks, just as a voice seemed to be calling out in the Malay tongue at three of the great cumbrous-looking beasts which were about a couple of yards away from the building.

"Driving of them, and they won't go," thought the watcher; and the speaker, a stunted-looking Malay with a short, iron-spiked implement, somewhat like the iron of a boat-hook, in his hand, came into sight between the huge pachyderms and the door, shouting and growling at his charge as he waved the hook and progged the nearest beast as if trying to drive them away.

"What a fool I was not to have learned this precious lingo! They want to come in, and he's telling them to get on. Well, there ain't no room for them here.—Ah, he don't like that!" For the dumpy Malay made use more freely of the goad he carried, and the nearest beast gave vent to an angry half-squeal, half-grunt, as, shrinking from the prod delivered at its flank, it made a rush at two companions, driving its great head first at one and then at the other, and with a good deal of grumbling, squealing, and waving of trunks, they shuffled out of sight.

"Why, I must have been asleep," cried Pegg, as he made for another opening where the sun streamed in; "but my head—oh, my head, how it aches! I can't seem to understand what it means. It's all of a—" He turned slowly round, staring vacantly, till his eyes fell upon the basket and jar almost at his feet. "'Nanas—water! Why,"—he turned his eyes in another direction, and then, with a faint cry of dismay, he shuffled across the place, making the dry leaves with which the floor was covered rustle loudly, as he sank upon his knees beside Archie. "I've got it now," he said to himself. "I remember; but my head's as thick as wool. He went to sleep, and I sat down to watch till he woke. Nice watch I've kept! Well, it's a good job those great brutes come along and woke me up. This must have been their old stable, and if I don't look out, one of these times they will be shoving that door down and walking in a-top of us. Poor old chap! He's sound enough now. Mustn't touch him. It would be a pity to wake him. I couldn't have been asleep many minutes."

Peter drew away silently and stood for a few moments watching the bright rays of sunshine that streamed in through the side of the building; and unconsciously he raised one hand and made a peculiar motion with it as if he were following the streaks of light from right to left with his index-finger.

"Seems rum," he muttered; "but it's my head being so thick, I suppose. Oh, there's that banana I began to eat;" and he stooped down, picked it up from where it lay amongst the leaves, and then dipped the cocoa-nut cup into the water, and took a deep draught of the refreshing beverage.

"Ah!" he sighed, as he set down the shell. "Seems to wash the cobwebs out of one's head. Wonder where those helephants were being driven."

As he muttered he stepped to the door and applied his eye to one of the cracks through which the sun was streaming, and then drew back, for the glare affected his eye.

"Shines hot," he muttered; "and it wasn't coming in like that when I looked through just now, before beginning to eat that banana. Well," he ejaculated, "it's a rum 'un! I've got it now! Why, I must have been asleep hours and hours and hours. It ain't this evening. When I looked it was all turning red because the sun was going down. It's to-morrow morning, and I've been asleep all night. I'm a nice sort of a chap, I am, to go on duty and leave my officer in the lurch like that! Well, he must have been asleep too. There's no gammon about it, for it is to-morrow morning, and he could not have woke up, because I should have heared him; so that's all right. Poor chap! And it must have done him good. But now I can think again, and my head don't ache so much. I feel better, and there's been no old Job Tipsy to drop upon me.—I wish there was, and a lot of our fellows with him," said the poor fellow dismally.

He crossed softly to where Archie lay breathing calmly, and then, as if feeling satisfied, he went back to the great earthen jar, refreshed himself with another draught of water, and seated himself by the basket, from which he took one of the bananas and began to eat.

"I'm quite peckish," he said to himself, "and, my word, they are good! I don't know how long it is since I felt like this. It must be a good sign. Well, there's plenty of them," he continued, and he took another, and another. "Not half bad," he went on, "as there's no commissariat coffee. Must leave plenty for Mr Archie, though. But 'nanas don't seem the sort of tack for a poor chap with his complaint. Wishing ain't no good, or I'd do it with both hands, and wish old Jollop was here to look at his tongue and to strap up that head of his. It ought to have all the hair cut off, but one can't do that with a blunt knife. Hullo! what's that?" he muttered, after satisfying himself with the fruit from the basket. "I believe it's one of those two-tailed pigs grunting and chuntering."

He went to the opening through which he had peered before, and looked out.

"Can't see anything," he muttered, "but it sounds like one of them coming back. Yes, I can! It is—just coming through the trees. Why, he's all wet, and dripping with mud and water. That's it. They have been driven down by their keeper to the river. Yes, there must be a river; and I say, lad, there's something to recollect. This 'ere place is somewhere up the river, or down it. Yes, down it, because up the river the water's clear, and down it, it gets muddy. Oh, I don't know. I dare say there's muddy places up the banks. There, stop that chuntering row. Just like a drove of pigs. He's coming back to his stable somewhere. Why, he's coming straight here, just as if he meant to knock the door down and get in. Well, if he did he wouldn't hurt us. He's only a tame one. That little chap made three of them shuffle off. But what a chance to cut if he opens the door! Oh dear!" he added, with a sigh. "Talk about cutting, with the young governor like he is! And even if he could walk, we don't know the way. Wonder where we are. It must be the Rajah's place somewhere right up in the jungle where he keeps his helephants, and that there Frenchman put him up to keeping his hostriches, as he called them, up here too."

Peter Pegg's mutterings and musing were brought to a sudden end by the elephant, which seemed to be quite alone, coming close up to the doorway, grunting and chuntering, as the young private called it, just as if the animal were talking to itself, mingling its remarks with a low squeal which might have meant either anger or satisfaction.

"I believe," thought Peter, "it's one of them that came to the sham-fight, and I could almost fancy it's the chap I had a ride on. But they are all alike, only one's bigger than another, and t'other's more small. If he had got his toggery on with gold fringes and the big bamboo clothes-basket full of cushions on his back, I should know him directly. But he's what they call disguised in mud.—Here, I say, don't! What you doing on?"

It was plain enough, for the great elephant had seized hold of a portion of the woven, basket-like wall, which began to crack and give way as a piece was torn out.

"I say, don't—don't be a fool! You'll wake the poor governor," whispered Peter, who began to tremble now with alarm.—"Oh, don't I wish I could remember what the mahout said to him!—Here, I say, don't!—I believe he's gone mad, and if he gets at us—Here, I say, what shall I do?" And he backed away from where the light was beginning to show more brightly through the woven wall, and took up his position as if to protect his wounded officer. "If I had only got my rifle and bayonet, I could keep him off, perhaps, with a good dig. Here, they have left me my knife, though," he said joyously, as he drew it out and opened the blade.

The possession of even this contemptible weapon seemed to give the poor fellow some confidence, and he took three or four steps towards the hole the huge beast was making, just as there was torn away another piece of the elastic palm or bamboo of which the wall between the uprights was formed.

And then the light opening was suddenly darkened.

"Blest if it ain't just like a great horse-leech such as we used to find in the water-crease beds, only about ten million times as big;" and the lad stood helplessly staring as he saw the monster's trunk thrust right in through the wall and beginning to wave up and down and from side to side, wondrously elastic, the nostrils at the end in this semi-darkness looking like a pair of little wet eyes, between which the prehensile part moved up and down like a tiny pug-nose.

Sniff, snuff, snort, and then a little squeal as, after waving here and there for a few moments, the curious member was stretched out straight in the direction of the lad, emitted a deep, damp sigh, and then began to wave up and down and to and fro again, before curling up, to some extent uncoiling, and shooting out straight and stiff again in the same direction.

"Oh Lor'!" groaned Peter, "it's just like one of them there big boa-constructors, and he's coming for me. He means me. There's a sniff! And this knife not a bit of good. If I cut it off it would only make him more wild. Look at it, with its two little eyes seeming to stare at me. Boa-constructor! It's more like an injy-rubber pipe gone mad."

There was another faint squeal, and the great trunk slowly changed its position, and stretched itself out in the direction of the bamboo basket.

"Here, I say," thought Peter, "does he mean them?"

The lad hesitated for a minute or two while the elephant continued its low, almost purring, muttering sound, as the trunk turned once more in his direction, and then became stiffly pointed out again towards the basket, while the wall about the height of the elephant's head gave forth a loud crack.

"He's a-leaning ag'in it, and it's coming through!" gasped Peter. "Here, there's nothing for it.—All right, mate; wait a minute: you shall have the whole blessed lot. Murder! Don't!" roared the poor fellow; for as he made a dash to reach the basket, as quick as lightning the trunk was curled round his neck, and held him fast as he dropped upon his knees.

"It's all over, Mister Archie, sir," he groaned. "And you lying there asleep and taking not no notice! Wouldn't have catched me 'listing if I'd ha' known it meant coming to this!—Oh, I say, do leave go!"

As if his captor thoroughly grasped the meaning of his piteous appeal, the trunk began slowly to loosen its hold; and then, as the poor fellow prepared himself for a dash to get beyond its reach, he found it begin to smooth him over and stroke him gently down from shoulder to arm, playing about as if caressing him, after the fashion in which he had seen the animals treat their mahout when about to be fed.

"Oh dear!" groaned Peter; "I thought it was all over with me. Does he mean he wants one of them bananas?"

The lad's hand trembled as he reached out, picked up one of the bananas—the largest he could see—and held it in the direction of the end of the trunk.

There was a loud sniff; the trunk curled round the fruit, curved under, and was drawn back through the hole. The sun shone brightly in, and Peter felt conscious that the banana was disappearing into the great brute's wet mouth. Then in the most deliberate manner the end of the trunk reappeared, gliding towards him like some serpent. The light was pretty well shut out, and as the wall creaked again, Peter somehow omitted to dash right off as far away as he could go, and found himself picking up another banana, which was deliberately taken, disappeared slowly to make way for the light to pass in, and then the process was repeated once more.

"Here, who's afraid?" said the lad, mastering the oppression and panting from which he suffered, as he picked up a fourth banana. "He means friends, and I'm blessed if I don't believe it's the same one as I tackled at the sham-fight, I wish I knew.—Want another, mate?" he continued, as the trunk-end curled towards him again; and as it slowly took the banana from his hand, he passed his fingers beyond the grasped fruit, and gave the quivering member a quick stroke or two.

To his surprise, the trunk remained motionless, and a faint snorting sound or grunt came from beyond the wall.

"All right. Paid for!" said Peter as he withdrew his hand, and the trunk disappeared. "I do believe it's the same one," repeated the lad, "and I shall be all right as long as these 'ere 'nanas last; but when they are done, suppose he comes through to see why the rations have stopped. Well, I must make them last as long as I can; and he's very cool over it, and not in a hurry. Wonder whether it is that one I knew, and he smelt me and come to see. Yah! Stuff! He smelt the fruit. Oh! here he is again."

The next time the trunk reappeared Peter Pegg was ready with one of the oat-cakes broken in half. This was taken just as readily, and was being drawn through the hole when its awkward semicircular shape caused it to be caught against the sides, and it dropped inside instead of disappearing like the fruit. The trunk was withdrawn unsupplied, and Peter was in the act of stooping to pick up the piece of cake, when the light was obscured again, making the lad glance upwards and catch sight of the serpent-like, coiling member descending slowly upon him.

"Here, no larks!" cried the lad, dropping upon his knees and preparing to crawl out of reach; but the thought of what he had suffered before unnerved him for the moment, and he could not stir.

He uttered a faint cry as he felt the touch of the elastic organ; but it only began to stroke him caressingly, and recovering himself, he drew a deep breath, held out the piece of cake, which was smelt directly, taken, and this time disappeared in safety.

It was all done very slowly, and poor Peter thought to himself, "I suppose he's enjoying of it all—but think of me!" He grew more confident, however, and went on and on, presenting the generous supply of bananas till only four were left, and these and the other cake he thrust farther away, and stripping off his flannel jacket, he covered the remainder in the bottom of the basket.

This he had just done when the trunk reappeared as usual, and summoning up his courage to meet the disappointment and perhaps anger of his visitor, Peter cried aloud:

"There! All over, comrade! No more to-day. Off you go!"

Just as if the huge beast understood him from the tone of his voice, it raised its trunk and passed it about his shoulders and breast; and then the poor fellow uttered a faint groan of despair.

"What a fool I was!" he thought, for he felt the trunk curl round his neck and tighten gently; and his heart began to fail, when it was uncurled, and stretched out again; the wall overhead creaked loudly, and the end of the trunk was dipped in the big earthen jar.

There was a sucking noise, the trunk disappeared slowly, and Peter drew the jar so that it stood just below the opening the elephant had made. As this was done there came the loud squirting sound of the water being sent down the huge beast's throat.

Then the trunk descended, to be recharged and disappear again, and Peter, as the trunk was withdrawn, seized the supply-vessel and drew it right away.

"Don't believe there's half a pint left," he grumbled. "What about Mister Archie?—There, no more!" he cried aloud, as the trunk was thrust back, passed over his shoulders again, and finally withdrawn, Peter half climbing up to peer through the hole and see his visitor go slowly muttering away.

"And him grumbling, too," said the lad—"ungrateful beast! He did give me a fright. But, my eye, what a game! Look at him!" he continued, as the hind-quarters of the monster concealed the rest of its form. "Just like an awful great pair of trousers walking by theirselves!"



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

PRISONERS.

"There's a pretty go!" he cried, as he lifted the now light basket and put it down again, and peered once more into the earthen jar. "Suppose they meant the rations and water to last for two or three days! There was a good supply, and that great beast has wolfed and drunk all. Well, it has made him friends, anyhow. He will be coming again. Yes; but who wants a friend like that to keep coming again?"

The lad glanced in the direction of his fellow-prisoner, to find that he was still sleeping; and his next proceeding was to go gingerly about, disturbing the dry leaves as little as possible, and making a more thorough examination of the place.

"Must have been a helephant stable once upon a time," he concluded at last, "for here's the great post that one of the big pigs was chained to by the leg so that he could not get at the walls. Walls! They are nothing better than so many fences. Talk about shutting up a helephant! Why, I could pull them down myself if I wanted to get away—leastways I could climb up the side and make a hole through the roof. Can't call one's self a prisoner. Yes, I can, because I am regularly chained by the leg; for who's going to leave his comrade? Poor old chap!"

At that moment there was a deep sigh, followed by a loud rustling amongst the leaves, as Archie made an effort to change his position, slightly raising his head, but letting it fall back with a low groan, while the young private stepped softly to his side, knelt down, and bent over him.

"Hurt you much, Mister Archie, sir?" the lad whispered quietly, and one hand played over the injured head, hesitated, and was then withdrawn. "Hurt you, Mister Archie, sir?" he said again, a little louder, for there was only a weary sigh. "Wish he'd speak," said the lad to himself, "for he ought to have something, if it's only a drop more water. What a fool I was to let that great indiarubber thing suck it all up! Why, I couldn't even use some of it now to bathe his poor head."

The poor fellow seemed to Pegg to be sleeping as heavily as ever, and after he had looked at him carefully for a few minutes, there was a deep, buzzing hum as of some insect, and a great fly flashed across the golden rays which streamed in through the thatch, and hovered around for a few moments as if about to settle upon the sleeping lad's head.

"Would you?" ejaculated Peter Pegg, striking out so fiercely and exactly that he struck the insect with a sharp pat and drove it against the woven wall, with which it was heard to come in contact, to fall directly, buzzing and rustling among the dried leaves. "That's settled you," said Peter. "I know your little game—lay eggs and make a poor fellow's wound go bad. Not this time!"

"Cowards!" came excitedly from Archie, and he once more tried to raise his head, but only for it to sink back wearily. "Burning—always burning! Oh, how hot—how hot!"

"Like some water, Mister Archie, sir?"

"Water! Who said water?"

"Me, sir. There is a little. Let me give you a taste."

There was no reply, so Peter quickly tilled the cocoa-nut shell, bore it to his companion's side, and knelt down.

"Now then, sir, you let me hyste you up a little. Don't you try—I can do it, and hold the nut to your lips. You will have nothing to do but drink."

At the first touch Archie started violently.

"Who's that?" he cried.

"Only me, sir. Steady, or you will upset the whole blessed apple-cart, and make yourself wet."

"Only me—only me," said Archie, and directly after the poor fellow sank back again with a weary sigh.

"Look at that, now!" said Peter. "Oh! his head must be awfully bad inside as well as out. Why, if he isn't asleep again!"

It was growing dusk, when, feeling faint, hot, and exhausted, Peter Pegg stood over the basket, looked into it longingly, and then glanced at his wounded companion.

"He's sure not to want anything to eat," he said to himself. "A drop of water's about all he will touch when he comes to; and it's lucky I held that cocoa-nut shell tight, or it would all have gone." He turned to the jar, into which he had poured back the contents of the nearly full shell. "Oh dear! To think I let that great, gorging fire-hose of a hanimal suck up nearly all that beautiful water, when this place has been like an oven and made me as thirsty as if I had been living on commissariat bacon. Can't help it. He's sure to want a drink when he wakes up. I must leave that."

As he spoke he turned the jar sideways, and the ruddy light which filtered in through the cracks showed him the cool, clear fluid in the dark bottom of the vessel. He dipped in the shell, and found he could fill it easily.

"More than I thought," he said joyfully. "Why, I might have half-a-shellful, and then there would be quite a shell and a half left for the young governor. Can't help it; I must," he cried impatiently. "My throat's as dry as a sawpit."

Dipping the shell as he still held the jar sideways he brought it up again more than half-full.

"Too much," he said softly. "Fair-play's a jewel;" and carefully and slowly he let a portion of the precious water trickle back into the bottom of the jar.

"That's about half," he said, with a judicial look. "Now then, sip it, mate, and make it go as far as you can."

Raising the cup to his lips, he slowly imbibed the tepid liquid till the very last drop had been drained out of the shell. Then replacing it where it had been before, he uttered a deep sigh.

"I never used to think water was so beautiful," he said softly. "I forget what them people asked for when they had three wishes, but I know what I should wish for now. It would be for that there jar brim-full of cold water, and me to have a throat as long as a boa-constructor, so that I could feel it all go gently down."

His eyes fell upon the basket again, and the slight draught of water having turned his faintness into a strong desire for food, he could hardly restrain himself from taking one of the remaining bananas. In fact, after resisting the temptation for some minutes, he darted his hand down, caught up one of the soft, gold-tinted fruits, raised it towards his mouth, and dashed it down again.

"Hanged if I do!" he cried angrily; and thrusting his hands deep into his pockets, he had another look at Archie, and then raised himself up so as to peer through the opening the elephant had made, and try to get some better idea of his position.

"Trees, trees, trees," he said; "trees everywhere; but there's a path off to the left, and one goes off to the right, and there's another goes straight away. Let's see: off to the right must be down to the river, because that's where the helephants went; and those other paths must go to where somebody lives; but there's no sign of a house—nothing but trees. Not a sound! Oh, what a lonely place it is! And here's all the long, dark night coming. The sun's going down fast. I sha'n't sleep a wink to-night after snoozing as I did. And here I'm going to lie thinking about that upset with poor Mister Archie's boat, and—yes, I shall be thinking more about what's become of Miss Minnie. Here, I say, what a row there's going to be when the Major and Sir Charles know of it all! And me shut up here instead of being with the lads when the governor lets them slip at these Malay jockeys, for I am a bigger fool than I thought for if one of these Rajahs isn't at the bottom of this job. I don't know but what it might be that there smooth young 'un who dosses hisself up to look like an English gent. If it ain't him, it's that queer-eyed, big, fat fellow; only I suppose it can't be him, because old Tipsy Job says he's friends. How comes it, then," he continued, speaking with energy, "that the Frenchman has had to do with our being prisoners? Here, I can't think. It's making my head ache and things get mixed again. What's that?" he half-whispered excitedly. "It's somebody coming;" and pressing his face closer to the opening, he strained his eyes round so as to gaze to the left, and then dropped lightly down before throwing himself upon the dried palm-leaves close to where Archie lay, and listening to the coming steps. "That chap can speak English 'most as well as I can," he thought to himself, "and I am going to ask him plump and plain what's become of Miss Minnie."

A gruff voice uttered what was evidently a command to halt, the wooden bars were lowered and the door thrown open to admit the deep sunset glow, and the stern-looking Malay with his following marched in, their steps rustling amidst the leaves that covered the floor; and the leader bent down curiously over Archie, scowling at him fiercely, before turning his lurid eyes searchingly upon the young private, who now lay back with his lids half-lowered, apparently gazing down into his chest.

The Malay rose again, then turned and gave an order to his followers, two of whom stepped outside, one of them first standing up the spear he carried in the dark corner behind the door, while their chief growled out something as he pointed at the freshly torn opening in the side. One of the men grunted—it sounded like a grunt to Peter Pegg—and raising his spear, he passed it through the opening, rattled it to and fro, and then stepped outside to pick up two or three torn-out pieces of palm-fibre, brought them in, showed them to his chief, and uttered a half-laugh.

Just then the two men who had passed outside returned, one bearing a fresh jar brim-full of water, the other a basket of fruit and another of the big, roughly made cakes, which were set down.

Then the leader stepped forward, stooped down suddenly over Pegg, his right hand resting upon the fold of the sarong which covered the hilt of his kris, and with his left thumb he roughly raised the young private's eyelids one after the other.

Peter Pegg did not so much as wince.

"Let him think I'm asleep if he likes—an ugly Eastern beast!"

The Malay turned now to Archie to look fixedly at the poor fellow's head, before touching the injured scalp with one brown finger, with the effect of eliciting a deep-drawn sigh of pain.

Then the man rose, and apparently satisfied with the helplessness of the prisoners, he uttered a low, abrupt order, and his little train shouldered their spears and marched out, one of them carrying the empty basket, his companion shouldering the heavy earthen jar.

Peter Pegg lay back motionless, to listen to the barring of the door, half-wondering the while at the great change that the closing door made upon the interior: one moment the last rays of the setting sun were flooding the great stable with a deep, blood-red glow; the next the place seemed by comparison quite dark.

The lad listened till the last retiring steps had died away, and then he sat up suddenly, with the recollection of a little knife and fork given to him years before by his grandmother, and chuckling softly to himself, he half-whispered:

"A present for a good boy!—Of course," he said, after a pause to make sure that no one was going to return; "I am not going to bounce, but I was a very good boy for not pitching into that 'nana. Oh my! Ain't it splendid!" he continued, turning over on hands and knees and scrambling like a quadruped to where the jar and basket had been placed. "There's going to be such a supper! But don't I wish I was going to have company! Oh, you beauty!" he cried hoarsely, as he hugged the great jar to his chest, bent down till he could press his lips to the thick edge, and then tilting it slightly, drank and drank and drank.

At last he lowered the jar till it stood firmly in its place, raised himself upon his knees, and uttered a long, deep sigh.

"Oh, ain't it splendid!" he said. "They have got water here! Talk about a horse drinking—well, I suppose any one would say I drank like a hass or a pig. No, I didn't, because I've only been drinking the helephant's share if he comes again—not yours, Mister Archie. I do wish you were awake.—Here, I say, let's have some of that bread," he said, half-aloud now; and breaking the cake in four, he placed himself in a comfortable position and took a bite.

"That ain't quite comfortable, though," he muttered, and raking a lot of the leaves into the corner of the place, he seated himself so that he could rest his back in the angle.

"Not quite right," he muttered. "These 'ere big feathers have got a lot of quill in them. Let's have some more."

He stretched out his left hand in the darkness to draw an armful more of the dried palm-leaves beneath him, when his hand came in contact with something which rasped against the matted wall and fell heavily in the direction of where his fellow-prisoner lay.

"What's that?" said the lad sharply, as, sweeping his hand round over the leaves, his fingers closed almost spasmodically upon what felt like a bamboo cane.

The next moment Pete was upon his feet, staring in the direction of the dimly seen door.

"My!" he whispered hoarsely; and using the cane like a walking-stick, he stepped on tiptoe right to the door, and then whispered softly beneath his breath:

"Hi! Hi! Hi! I say, old 'un, you've forgot your spear.—Think of that, now," he continued, half-aloud. "Why, of course; he stood it up there before he went out to fetch that precious jar. Forgot it! I say—talk about discipline in the Rajah's army, and a chap forgetting his piece! Fancy old Tipsy, and it was me and my rifle! Plenty of water, plenty of bread and fruit, and a present of one of them spears, as will be handier than a fixed bay'net. Why isn't Mister Archie awake to enjoy all this? Now then, if that chap will only come to-morrow night, and forget another of these sharp-pointed toothpicks for Mister Archie, I shall be very much obliged. But here am I playing the fool like this, and at any moment he may be coming back to fetch this one away. Well, if he expects he's going to get it, poor chap, I'm sorry for him;" and obeying his first impulse, he carried the keen-pointed weapon across the floor, lowered the head, and felt gently to find where it was bare; and the next moment his lingers were playing about over what was evidently a short piece of bamboo of about the same circumference as the shaft, and which fitted tightly over the keen blade like a sheath.

Then going down upon one knee, he thrust the spear carefully in beneath the bed of leaves at the foot of the wall, behind where Archie lay. Not satisfied at once, he withdrew and thrust in the weapon again, feeling if it was well covered; and then going to the far end, and scraping up and bringing a double armful of the dried leaves, he carefully covered his treasure more deeply.

"Ah!" he ejaculated, panting a little with his exertion, "I don't think it's likely.—What say, sir?" he added, addressing an imaginary Malay fighting-man. "Have I seen your spear? No, sir. Haven't set eyes upon it, honour bright.—'Always tell the truth, Pete,' granny used to say. Well, ain't that the truth? Why, I don't believe a cat could have seen it; and if I hadn't knocked it down I shouldn't have known it was there. Now, between ourselves, I do think I deserve something to eat after that," muttered the poor fellow. "Here, where did I put that there piece of cake? It must be lost amongst those leaves. Dropped it when I was feeling for the spear. What! plenty more in the basket? No, I won't. Wilful waste makes woeful want. Why, here it is in my trousers pocket all the time! So, now then, let's have another try; and I will treat myself to a banana afterwards. No, I won't; I'll have two." And hurrying to the basket, he helped himself to the fruit, and then made himself comfortable in the corner where he had knocked over the spear, and began to eat with a splendid appetite.

"Oh, don't I wish you was here to help me, Mister Archie, sir!" he said, half-aloud and rather piteously. "Poor, dear chap! I'd feed you if I dared wake you up; but I'm sure it's right to let you sleep. But won't you be glad when you know about that spear? If we could only get another, and a couple of them krises, we should be regular set up if it come to a scrimmage, as it shall, as sure as my name's Peter. We are going to escape—somehow; and if anybody stops us it's a fight. We sha'n't be able to throw the spears like these Malay beggars do, but me and Mister Archie can do bay'net practice with them in a way that will open some of their eyes. Oh, how good!" half-whispered the lad, as he finished his frugal supper of bread and banana. "Don't it seem to put life in a fellow! Now, what am I going to do? Sit and think of how to escape? No hurry, lad. I want Mister Archie's orders, and I'll do the work. Seems to me that the first thing will be for me to get out of here somehow in the dark to go and reconnoitre, and then steal—no, it's capture, being enemies—another spear and two krises. How? Knock down an enemy somewhere and take what he's got. I'm game. And then—"

That was as far as Peter Pegg got, for he could not partake of so hearty a meal, after refreshing himself in a way that thoroughly quenched his thirst, without obeying Nature afterwards; and this he did, lying prone, fully stretched out, and not in the painful, cramping position of the previous night.



CHAPTER TWENTY.

ARCHIE THINKS.

"Hoomph! Phoonk!"

"What say?" cried Peter, springing up in a sitting position, to find it was daylight once more. "Oh, it's you, is it?" he cried, for there was a crackling by the door, and the great, tapering, serpent-like trunk of an elephant was waving to and fro and reaching towards the water-jar.

"Yahhh! Burrrr!" came from outside, and there were steps as if somebody were rushing towards the door to chase the intruder away.

The utterer of the yell seemed to have been successful, for the trunk was drawn back quickly, the elephant trumpeted, there were the footsteps of a man, and the shuffling sound of the gait of the great beast, as, springing up, Peter Pegg ran to the door and climbed up to place his eye where the trunk had been, so that he could see what was taking place.

"My! Look at that!" cried Peter cheerily. "That ain't the way to drive a helephant away. You are going all wrong, comrade." For, instead of suffering himself to be driven, the elephant opened his mouth, curved up his trunk into something the shape of the letter S, and displaying two finely produced, sharply pointed tusks, he was starting in full chase of the stumpy underling who had been driving him down to the river, but only to turn back and make a call on his new friend for refreshment.

"What a lark!" said Peter, as the elephant disappeared after his quarry. "It makes me feel as if I should like to keep helephants, if I get to be Field-Marshal and they make me Governor-General of Injy and Malay; for they are such rum beggars. They look just as if when they died they would do to cut up for injy-rubber. And they seem so friendly, too, with any one they like. Sort of things as you can't drive, but have to lead. I should like a good helephant for a pet, but I suppose he would be expensive to keep; and I don't suppose that there grubby-looking little chap feels very comfortable with that one chivying him. Here, I never thought of that," continued Peter, as he dropped down amongst the palm-leaves. "My lord was reaching out that big leech of his after our rations. Lucky he couldn't get at them. I ought to have remembered to put them away;" and, to guard against any mishap, Peter Pegg hastened to place jar and basket in the right-hand corner of the building, where they would be handy for replenishing, and out of reach and out of sight of his huge visitor. This done, the young private crossed over to where he had thrust and covered over the spear, and, to his intense satisfaction, he found that unless a searcher well turned over the dried leaves, it would be impossible to find the concealed weapon.

"Is that you, Pete?" said a faint voice; and Archie's fellow-prisoner literally rushed to the speaker's side.

"Me it is, sir. England for ever, and hooray! Oh, do say you are better, sir!" cried the lad, ending in a half-squeak as if there were tears in his throat or he was trying to imitate an elephant.

"Better? Yes, I think I'm better, Pete," said the poor fellow feebly. "But my head aches dreadfully, and—and—I'm so weak."

"Ah, I've got to bathe that head, sir."

"Yes, I think that would do it good. Yes, I am better, Pete, for I can think. We are prisoners, aren't we?"

"Yes, sir, at present," said Pete confidently. "Just till we are exchanged, or escape."

"Ah!" ejaculated Archie. "I said I could think now, and I was forgetting. Look here, have you found Miss Minnie?"

"Now, now, now, sir," cried the young private in a tone full of remonstrance; "you have been very ill, and off your head. It's very horrid, I know, but you have got to get better, and not make yourself worse with thinking about that."