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Trapped by Malays: A Tale of Bayonet and Kris, a fiction by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 3. A Malay Friend

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_ CHAPTER THREE. A MALAY FRIEND

Archie Maine's sensations as he marched beside his chief into the mess-room were such that he would far rather have escaped to his own quarters; but he began to pull himself together as he caught sight of a friend, and the next minute he was being in turn introduced by the quiet, gentlemanly Resident to the Rajah Suleiman, a heavy-looking, typical Malay with peculiar, hard, dark eyes and thick, smiling lips, who greeted him in fair English and murmured something about "visit" and the "elephants and tigers." And then, as the Eastern chief, who did not look at home in the English evening-dress he had adopted, turned away to smile upon another of the officers, Archie joined hands at once with a slight, youthful-looking visitor also in evening-dress, who as the youths chatted together showed his mastery of the English language sufficiently to address the subaltern as "old chap," following it up with:

"When are you going to get your boss to give you a day or two's leave?"

"Oh, I don't know," replied Archie. "Not for some time; I'm in disgrace."

"Disgrace! What do you mean?" was the inquiry.

"Oh, not sticking enough to my duties."

"Duties?"

"Yes; drill and practice."

"Oh, nonsense! You don't want to be always drilling and drilling and drilling. Your men could kill us all off without any more of that. I shall ask the Major to let you come and stay with me a month."

"No, no, no," said Archie, though his eyes were flashing with eagerness.

"And I say yes, yes, yes. I haven't got such a troop of elephants as Rajah Suleiman, but I have got two beauties who would face any tiger in the jungle, and my people could show you more stripes than his could. But perhaps I am so simple at home that you would rather go and stay with His Highness."

"Look here, Hamet," whispered Archie quickly; "you said that to me last time, just as if I had slighted you."

"Beg pardon, old chap. I didn't mean it; but your people--I don't know how it is--don't seem to take to me. I always feel as if they didn't trust me, and I don't think that I shall care about coming here any more."

"What!" cried Archie excitedly, as he found that he had to take his seat at the table beside the young Rajah, whose face was beginning to assume a lowering aspect, as he saw that the Major's original intentions had been hurriedly set aside and the chair on the latter's right was occupied by the Rajah Suleiman, that on his left by a keen, sharp-looking gentleman who might have been met in one of the Parisian _cafes_, so thoroughly out of place did he seem in a military mess-room rather roughly erected in a station on the banks of a Malay jungle river.

"What!" said Archie again, in a low tone; and he noted how his companion was furtively watching the attention paid to his brother Rajah.

"I'll tell you presently," said the young Malay. "But who is that gentleman?"

"That? Oh, he's a traveller. He's a French count."

"French count?" said his companion. "A great friend of Suleiman's, isn't he?"

"Not that I know of."

"Yes, he is. So one of my people says."

"Oh?" said Archie.

"Yes; Suleiman met him when he went to Paris."

"You seem to know all about it," said Archie laughingly.

"Oh no; I _want_ to know everything, but there is so much--so much to learn. I wish I had gone to Paris too."

"What! so as to get to know the French count?"

"Pish!--No, thank you; I don't take wine," he added quickly, as one of the officers' servants was filling glasses.

"Won't you have a glass of hock?"

"No," was the quiet reply. "And I don't want to know the French count. I don't like him."

"Why?"

"Because he is Suleiman's friend."

"That's saying you don't like Suleiman."

"No. But I don't like him, and he hates me."

"Why?"

"Because he likes my country."

"And I suppose you like his?"

"I? No. I have got plenty of land that my father left me. He sent me--you know; I told you--to England."

"Yes, I know; to be educated and made an English gentleman."

"Yes," said the young man, with a sigh; and his handsome half-Spanish countenance clouded over. "And I did work so hard to make myself like you young Englishmen; but I had not the chance."

"But you did splendidly. I heard of how high a position you took."

The young Rajah smiled sadly and shook his head.

"You say that as a sort of compliment," he said.

"That I don't. I never pay compliments, for I know you don't like them. If you did, you and I shouldn't be such friends."

The young Rajah turned and gazed fixedly in the speaker's eyes for a few moments, and then turned hastily to help himself from the dish handed to him.

"No, we shouldn't," he said in a low voice as soon as the dish was removed; and he began to trifle with the food. "Yes," he continued, "those were jolly days at the big school; and it seemed so strange to come back here from studies and cricket and football." He laughed softly as he turned merrily to look at his companion again. "I say, how I used to get knocked about! The chaps used to say that it got my monkey up, but I suppose it did me good."

"No doubt," said Archie merrily. "You got over wanting to kris the fellows, didn't you?"

"Of course; and it made me so English that I don't want to kris the poor fellows now that I have come back and am Maharajah here in my father's stead. But it was all no good," he added, with a sigh.

"What?" exclaimed Archie wonderingly.

"No good," repeated the young man. "He sent for me to come home, but it was only to say good-bye and tell me that I was to love the English and be their friend so as to make them my friends. 'They are a great people, Hamet,' he said--'a great people. We are only little chiefs, but they can rule the world.' I want to be their friend, but somehow they don't like me but make much of Suleiman."

"Oh, wait a bit," said Archie. "I think you are wrong. We English are such blunt people. Why, our Major--he was my father's schoolfellow-- he's a splendid old chap."

"Yes; but he doesn't trust me," said the young Malay.

"Oh, you wait."

"I like your doctor."

"Well, you must like Sir Charles Dallas."

"What! Suleiman's Resident? I don't know him. Your English Queen--I mean Her Majesty--"

"Yes, I know," said Archie, laughing.

"She has not sent a Resident to live in my country."

"No. Do you know why?"

"Yes," said the young man coldly. "She does not trust me."

"Ha, ha, ha!"

"Why do you laugh?"

"At you."

"But why?"

"Because she does trust you--or, rather, our Government does."

The young man turned sharply to gaze with a searching glance in the speaker's eyes.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"Go on with your dinner, old chap, and I'll tell you by-and-by. Here's Down wants to have a word with you.--Don't you, Down?"

"Ah yes, Captain Down," said the young Rajah, bowing towards him. "I seem to know you. Maine says you are such a splendid shot. Are you?"

"Oh, I can pull a trigger, and I can hit something sometimes," said the young officer.

"Sometimes!" put in Archie. "Why, he never misses. You ought to know more of him, Rajah. He's like that old country gentleman's two sons who loved hunting and shooting. He's a regular Nimrod and Ramrod rolled into one. Understand?"

"Yes; I read that in the old joke-book. Then your friend will come and have some shooting. Will you not?"

"Rather!" said the Captain; and the general conversation went on till the old English custom was in the ascendant and the Major gave Her Majesty's health and the band played "God save the Queen;" and afterwards the Major proposed the health of their guest, His Highness Sultan Suleiman, who afterwards rose and bowed two or three times, said a few words very clumsily, and then turned towards the _distingue_- looking guest on the Major's left, and sat down; whereupon the French guest said a few words to the Major, who rose and announced that the Count de Lasselle would respond for the Sultan Suleiman.

There was the customary applause as the Count arose; and in very good English, which he only had to supplement now and then with a strong dash of French, he returned thanks for their illustrious guest, who, he could assure the English officers, had but one aim in life, and that was to be the friend and ally of the great British Queen. His speech was long and very flowery, and he did not forget to say that there was no other country in the world suited to be the Sultan's ally but beautiful France, his own country, he was proud to say, and he was sure that she too would always be the great friend of the Sultan; at which some one at the table uttered in a low voice that was almost like a cough the ejaculation, "Hum!"

Archie turned sharply, and exchanged glances with Captain Down.

"What did the Doctor mean by that?" said the latter.

"Don't know," said Archie. "Shall I go and ask him?"

"By-and-by. Look at your friend."

"Why? What do you mean?"

"He looks as if he felt that he was being left out in the cold."

Archie glanced at the young Rajah, who was sitting back picking his cigarette to pieces; and then his attention was taken up by seeing the big, bluff Sergeant of the regiment making his way behind the chairs to where the Doctor was seated.

"It's all right, Maine," said the Captain; "you needn't go. The Major's sent Patient Job, as the lads call him, to ask old Bolus what he means by insulting the French guest."

"Get out! Somebody taken ill. I hope it's none of the ladies."

The Doctor nodded, and left his chair, to follow the Sergeant, just as the Major rose again to propose the health of the regiment's other guest that evening, Maharajah Hamet, another of the chiefs, who had declared himself the friend of their Queen and country.

The toast was quietly received, and quietly replied to in a few well-spoken words by the young Prince, not without eliciting some remarks at his mastery of English; and soon after the party broke up in smoke, the officers strolling down to the banks of the river, where the landing-place was gay with Chinese lanterns hung here and there and ornamenting the two nagas of the Rajahs lying some distance apart and filled by the well-armed followers of the chiefs, one of whom was heartily cheered by those assembled as he slowly walked in company with his French companion to take his seat, before, in response to three or four sonorous notes from a gong, the yellow-uniformed rowers dipped their oars lightly, to keep the dragon-boat in mid-stream so that it might be borne swiftly onward.

The young Rajah Hamet remained some few minutes longer, after taking his leave of the Major and officers, and then, accompanied by Captain Down and Archie, he walked slowly along to where a guard of the English infantry was drawn up, the chief's men being waiting in their places, ready to push off.

"Don't take this as a compliment," said the young Malay. "It is all sincere, and I can make you very welcome in good old English fashion as long as you like to stay--you, Captain Down, and you, Maine. You make the Captain come too. I promise you plenty of sport. My shikaris know their business. Once more, good-night."

He stepped back, the long, live-looking boat glided off, and the rowers' oars dipped with the vim and accuracy of an eight-oared racer on the Thames. But she made head slowly against the swift stream, while, as the young men watched her, their eyes rested upon the fire-flies glittering amongst the overhanging trees upon the banks, and all at once there was a loud splash just ahead of where the naga was gliding.

"What's that--some one overboard?" said the Captain.

"No, sir," said a deep British voice from just behind where the young officers stood; "only one of them great, scaly varmints getting out of the way."

"Oh, it's you, Sergeant," said Archie quickly; and then, on the impulse of the moment, the lad laid his hand on the big non-com's arm and said hurriedly, "I've had it out with the Major, Ripsy, and it's all right now. But it was all my fault. Don't be too hard on poor Pegg."

The Sergeant's reply was checked by a question from the Captain:

"Whom was the Doctor fetched to see? Any one ill?"

The Sergeant chuckled.

"No, sir. It was them rival niggers beginning to cut one another's throats; but I stopped it with my lads, and then fetched the Doctor. It gave him three or four little jobs. Some on them mean a row." _

Read next: Chapter 4. The Doctor's Patients

Read previous: Chapter 2. A Rowing

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