"Yes, apparently. But you see my position. Here are our two friendly natives both offended, but professing forgiveness, and working for us. I cannot charge them on bare suspicion. I must have some proof." "Then why not search land as well as river?" "How?" said the Resident. "Be reasonable, Bolter. You know as well as I do that the rivers and streams are almost the only roads here. To penetrate elsewhere is to cut your way through the dense jungle. Say I determine to offend the Prince and Princess, and take soldiers, saying I mean to search their little towns, what good would that do?" "None, certainly," said the doctor. "They would not leave their prisoners there if they are prisoners." "You doubt, then?" "I doubt, and I don't doubt. I am not a diplomat, Harley. This is out of my line. If you have a pain, and give me your symptoms, I'll tell you what causes that pain. I can cut you anywhere without injuring an important artery, nerve, or vein; and I can extract bullets, cure fevers, mend broken bones. I can also classify most of the natural history objects of our district; but over a job like this we have in hand I am at sea. Try Mrs Bolter or Grey Stuart--they will counsel you better than I. Tell me, though, are you going to do anything?" "Yes. In confidence, I do not trust either Murad or the Inche Maida. This may all be some deeply-laid plot of both to obtain revenge; perhaps to begin ousting us from this place, where we are looked upon with jealousy." "Yes, very likely; but what are you going to do?" "Meet Eastern cunning with Eastern cunning. I am about to employ some people from lower down the river who are now seeking alliance with us, seeing how well it pays." "What, as spies?" "Yes," said the Resident, quietly. "I do not believe in the present theory of the disappearance, so I shall try these people. If Murad is playing us false, why then--" "Well, why don't you finish?" "I fear," said the Resident, fiercely, "that I shall go farther than to exact stern justice for this act; for when a man's feelings are touched as mine are now--" He did not finish, but turned sharply away, as if all this was more than he could bear. That night the doctor whispered to his wife to keep her counsel, and not to fret about those who were lost, for Neil Harley was deeply moved; and if something startling did not come out of it before many days were past, he, Dr Bolter, was no man. VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. BECOMING HUMBLED. The secret of the peculiarly-scented water was explained: it was a stain, prepared for the purpose, and face, neck, hands, arms were no longer those of Helen Perowne--whose complexion was acknowledged even by her detractors to be perfect--for as she again gazed within the limits of that little badly-reflecting glass, it was to see that her countenance now was as swarthy as that of the darkest of the Malays by whom she was attended.