One Maid's Mischief

“Good?” cried Hilton, angrily; “are we to stop here and be a pair of slaves?”

“No; only it’s as well to wait. There are times to fight, and there are times when it’s as well to draw off your forces, even if the London papers do revile and talk of want of pluck. You see a fellow can’t fight in a case of this sort. It’s ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous indeed!” cried Hilton; as, with the petulance of a boy, he seized the door, and slammed it in the face of the Malays.

“Exactly,” drawled Chumbley, glancing at the Princess, who was watching them from the other end of the room. “You see, Warner or Terriss on the Adelphi stage would have knocked all those fellows over like skittles, or skewered them all upon one spear like a row of larks; but that’s only done upon the boards; a fellow can’t play like that in common life.”

“Is there much more of this, Chumbley?” said Hilton, with mock deference.

“Not a great deal, old man,” said the big fellow, coolly ignoring his friend’s sarcastic manner. “I was only going to say – and I hope her majesty Queen Cleopatra can’t hear me – that the only course open to us seems to be to wait our chance and bolt; and I’ll be blest if I run, or try to run, through this sweltering jungle to save myself or anybody else. If you’ll have me carried down to the river and pitched in, I don’t mind trying to swim.”

“Ha – ha – ha – ha – ha! Ha – ha – ha – ha – ha – ha – ha!”

A merry, almost girlish laugh rang out; and as the two officers turned sharply, it was to see that the Inche Maida’s countenance had lost its look of annoyance, and was full of mirth, for she had heard every word that Chumbley had spoken.

“Tchah!” ejaculated Hilton; “our position is growing more and more absurd?”

“You are a very droll man,” said the Princess, turning to Chumbley. “You make me laugh by your way of speaking; but you are very wise and clever all the same. You know that you could not get away; so you are ready to wait patiently to see what comes. You are quite right, Mr Chumbley, and I like you more and more, and will treat you well.”

“That’s very kind of you, Princess,” said Chumbley, slowly; “and I must say that I heard what you said before about me; but speaking like a persecuted maiden in the ancient castle of some baron bold, will you excuse me if I say your previous remarks are insufficient, and I should be glad to know why the dickens you brought me here when you wanted him?”

“You make such long speeches,” cried the Inche Maida, “and you speak so slowly, that you puzzle me. I never know whether you are serious or laughing at me.”

“Oh, I am not laughing,” said Chumbley, slowly.

“Then do not ask,” said the Princess, shortly. “You are my prisoners, and must submit.”

“For the present, madam,” said Hilton, with a return of his anger; “but if you will take my advice, you will end this sorry farce at once. You will regret it if you stop too long, and find your palm-tree palace – ”

“It is no palace,” said the Princess, quietly, “only a simple house.”

“Surrounded by a company of our troops, and burned to the ground.”

The Princess laughed.

“I understand you,” she said, nodding her head; “but that will not be. You English are strong and have great weapons that would destroy us at a touch. We have but our spears and krisses, so we trust to our wisdom to help us out, do you see.”

“I think I know what you mean,” said Chumbley, quietly.

“Yes,” continued the Princess, “you are right; your soldiers would soon burn down my place and kill my people to get you back; but they would have first to find us out. Do you know where you are?”

Hilton glanced at the open window, to see through the lattice-work of bamboo the deep green of the impenetrable jungle.

“Yes,” she continued, smiling at the look which came upon the young officer’s face, “we bring cunning to fight upon our side. You see that you are in the jungle; and I tell you there is but one narrow path to this place, and my people guard it night and day.”

“When they are not asleep,” muttered Chumbley.

“I made this place,” she said, “to flee to when my enemies should come. Here I am safe, and here, too, you are safe, for none but my most trusted people know the way.”

“Pleasant news this, old fellow,” said Chumbley.

“Pleasant!” cried Hilton; “but she shall smart for it. She does not think of what will be the result.”

The Inche Maida frowned as she saw his angry looks and heard his words.

“Well, old fellow,” said Chumbley; “it seems to me that we are wasting time.”

“What! are you prepared to make a dash for it?” cried Hilton.

“Not I. I mean wasting time in talking like this. I’m sorry for you, old fellow – very sorry for you; but it’s very hot and tiring this standing about. Hadn’t we better make the best of it?”

“Best of it!” cried Hilton, who now obstinately refused to glance at the author of their trouble, and kept pacing up and down like a caged beast. “Are you mad?”

“Very,” whispered Chumbley; “but one can’t pitch into a woman. She fights with cunning, so must we, and wait for our chance to escape. There, it is of no use to chafe. Let’s be thankful that matters are no worse.”

“Worse!” cried Hilton, passionately, “they could not be worse;” and he spoke loudly enough for the Princess to hear his words.

“There – there, old fellow, calm down,” drawled Chumbley. “Make the best of it till her ladyship here has grown tired of her two caged birds, and has let us out. We are prisoners, I suppose, Princess?” he said, aloud.

“Prisoners or visitors, which you please, Mr Chumbley,” she said, smiling. “Let it be visitors, for though Captain Hilton has said such cruel things – see, I am not angered, but quite calm. You are my visitors, then; but you cannot get away until I give the word.”

“Or our people fetch us,” said Chumbley, throwing himself upon one of the divans with a sigh of relief, for the Inche Maida had pointed to the seat.

“They will not come to fetch you,” said the Princess, smiling.

“Why not?” said Hilton, sharply. “I tell you they will search till we are found, and then you destroy yourself by having us here.”

“Yes,” said the Princess, with her eyes half-closed; “they will search. They have searched, and have given it up. They found a small boat overset upon a bank of sand; part of your clothes were in it, and they think you were both drowned.”

“Confusion!” cried Hilton, fiercely.

“You have a woman to fight with,” said the Princess, smiling, “and I have taken my steps so well that no one will seek you here. I told my people to bring you both, and they obeyed. They would have sooner died than failed.”

“Tell me more,” said Chumbley, quickly. “Have you seen Mr Harley?”

“I will tell you nothing,” said the Princess, “till you are both my friends. There, I must leave you now. Promise me you will be patient, and not so foolish as to try to escape and fight. It would be horrible to me if you or any of my people should be hurt in some mad attempt. Promise me you will be patient and not try.”

“Not I,” said Chumbley, laughing. “I shall try to escape, and so will he.”

“Then you are wicked and foolish!” cried the Inche Maida, angrily.

“Both, I am afraid,” said Chumbley. “I always was; but may I make a request as a prisoner?”

“As a visitor, yes,” said the Princess, smiling. “May I ask, then, if you propose to gild the bars of our cage?”

“I do not understand,” she replied, gazing at him earnestly.

“I mean that it is very hot. May I have a cold drink of some kind; and do you allow smoking in the drawing-room?”