Busy hands were now about them, and a knife was used to cut them free; but their limbs were so cramped by the long confinement, and so tightly bound, that they could hardly move. Then the handkerchiefs were removed from their eyes, and they lay back on the soft matting gazing about them, the subdued light of the large room in which they found themselves being very grateful to their dazzled eyes. The man who had set them free from the cords was a stern-looking, muscular Malay in plain cotton jacket and sarong, in whose folds were stuck a couple of formidable-looking krisses; and the place in which the prisoners' eyes struggled with the light was a tolerably large room floored with split bamboo, the walls being for the most part a kind of basket-work of cane, partially covered with native woven hangings, while the floor was pretty well hidden by Persian and Turkish rugs. Everything looked cool and comfortable; and, in spite of the absence of tables and chairs, there was a good deal of elegance in the way in which various ornaments of bronze and china were arranged about the apartment. Here and there, too, were objects of European manufacture, principally in glass, Italian imitations of old Venice being principally chosen. Naturally enough the first glances of the prisoners were aimed at the windows, of which there were two, and at the door; but they were evidently strongly made, and though the bars of the windows were but wood, they were stout bamboos externally almost as hard to cut as flint. The Malay saw their looks; and making a sign to them, he crossed to the door and threw it open, admitting with the rays of the morning sun the glinting of the spear-heads of half a dozen stout Malay guards. Closing the door, he beckoned to the prisoners to come to the windows. Hilton essayed to rise, but sank back upon his mats with an ejaculation indicative of pain, for the attempt was full of suffering to his swollen limbs. Chumbley, though in pain, was more successful, or more fall of fortitude, for he struggled to his feet, and heavily tottered across the bamboos and mats to the window, which was covered with a beautifully-scented creeper, and through which a pleasant prospect was visible of undulating woodland and dense jungle. "Quite fresh to me," muttered Chumbley; "I wonder where we are?" Not till he had had this glance round did he pay any heed to the Malay, who was pointing to a group below each window of three well-armed men. "They are to kill you if you try to go," he said, quietly; and then, with a meaning smile, he left the room, fastening the door with some kind of bar. "This is atrocious!" cried Hilton, as he bit his lip, and pressed his swollen wrists; while Chumbley dropped at full length upon the mats, turned upon his back, and began to rub his legs. "A--bom--i--na--ble," he drawled. "That scoundrel Murad is at the bottom of it, I'll swear," cried Hilton. "Hang the fellow! I could shoot him like a dog."