"Quite a romance," replied Chumbley; "but never mind. We shall know what our ransom is to be to-night." "I wonder whether Harley is taking steps to find us?" "Sure to be, unless he thinks we are drowned," replied Chumbley. "There's no knowing. I believe my hat went floating down the river." "I hope not," said Hilton. "If he thought that he would not search for us." "Not till he heard about the ransom. I say, old fellow, I'm tired of smoking, I wonder whether they have a billiard table, or chess?" "Pshaw." "Well, then, a pea-rifle to pot the birds." "Very likely," said Hilton, drily, as they sat by the open window, looking out at the soft shadows of the coming night. "I'd give something to know really why we are boxed up here," said Chumbley, after a long silence. "It can't be anything connected with the station, or I should be in a terrible fidget. It must be something to do with us alone." "Yes," replied Hilton; "but it is all darkness at present." For the moment it was; but the light came all at once as they sat there having a similar conversation on the evening of the third day, after vainly trying to get some information from their guard, for just before sunset the door was thrown open, and looking very handsome and picturesque, and evidently as if she had paid great attention to her toilet, the Inche Maida entered; and as the two officers started up, she walked straight towards Hilton with extended hand. VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER SIXTEEN. AT FAULT AGAIN. "They'll find out the value of that woman now," said Dr Bolter to himself; "and if I haven't done wisely in marrying her, I'm a Dutchman! Why, it's the very thing! Here am I, Henry Bolter, a duly qualified medical man, physician and surgeon in one, ready to afford bodily relief; and here is Mary Bolter, my wife--fine sound about that," he said, smiling with satisfaction--"my wife--my little wife--no, my wife is best; it sounds more dignified--my wife, ready to afford mental relief wherever it is needed; and here she is." For just then the quick, pattering step of the little lady was heard, and, reticule on arm, she came in bustling, hot, and red-faced. "Well, my little woman, how are you getting on?" he said cheerily, as he placed his arm round the buxom little waist, and led her to an easy-chair, proceeding afterwards, with all a youth's tenderness, to take off her broad hat and light scarf, which he carefully laid down for fear of being called to account. "Oh, don't ask me, Henry," she sighed. "My heart is nearly broken with trouble, and I am doing no good at all." "Ahem!" ejaculated the doctor, taking her hand and feeling the pulse. "Don't be foolish, Henry, dear," she exclaimed. "Foolish? No, my dear, certainly not. Hum! Hah! Much fever and exhaustion. Recipe vin Xeres, cochleare magnum. Brisk osculation after the medicine." "What?" exclaimed Mrs Bolter.