"He looked as if he thought he was doing them an honour, Master Long, so it wouldn't have done to fall out with him. There, don't look so fierce, we've got a difficult game to play here, and our great point is not to quarrel with the Malays, unless we want spears thrown in at every dark window while we stay." Tom Long sat biting his nails, for Bob had touched him in a very tender part, and he knew it. In fact, the middy rather enjoyed his companion's vexation, for he had begun, since his memorable conversation with Miss Linton, to look upon his feelings towards her with a more matter-of-fact eye. "I shall have to get about at once," said Tom Long, speaking as if his weight in the scale would completely make Sultan Hamet kick the beam; but upon seeing the mirthful look in Bob Roberts' eye, he changed the subject, and began talking about how he longed to be out and about again. "I thought we should get no end of fishing and shooting out here," he said, "and we've had none as yet." "Get well, then, and we'll have a try for some," Rob suggested. "There must be plenty;" and with the understanding that the ensign was to declare himself fit to be off the doctor's hands as soon as possible, Bob Roberts returned to the steamer, and then finding it terribly close, he did what he had acquired a habit of doing when the weather was very hot, found a snug shady place on deck, and went off to sleep. That was very easy in those latitudes. Whether the sun shone or whether it was gloomy, black, and precursive of a thunder-storm, an European had only to sit down in a rocking chair, or swing in a hammock, and he went off into a delicious slumber almost on the instant. So far so good; the difficulty was to keep asleep; and so Bob Roberts found. He had settled himself in a low basket-work chair, beneath a stout piece of awning which shed a mellow twilight upon the deck, and loosening his collar, he had dropped off at once; but hardly was he asleep before "burr-urr-urr boom-oom-oom, boozz-oozz-oozz" came a great fly, banging itself against the awning, sailing round and round, now up, now down, as if Bob's head were the centre of its attraction, and he could not get farther away. Now it seemed to have made up its mind to beat itself to pieces against the canvas, and now to try how near it could go to the midshipman's nose without touching, and keeping up all the time such an aggravating, irritating buzz that it woke Bob directly. There was plenty of room for the ridiculous insect to have flown right out from beneath the awning and over the flashing river to the jungle; but no, that did not seem to suit its ideas, and it kept on with its monotonous buzz, round and round, and round and round. Half awake, half asleep, Bob fidgeted a little, changed his position, and with his eyes shut hit out sharply at his tormentor, but of course without effect.