The Malay girl bent over her for a few minutes, and then softly withdrew her hand from between Helen's, to follow her companion to the window, where she was sitting droning over some native ditty about meeting her love beneath the moonbeams among the waving rice, and then they sat chatting and laughing together in a low tone. Now they discussed Helen's features, then her want of courage, and lastly, in a dull indifferent way, they began to wonder whether their lord would be satisfied with what they had done, and when he was likely to come. VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. THE INCHE MAIDA AT HOME. "Ah, Princess," cried Hilton, flushing with pleasure as he saw help and liberty shining as it were in the face of a friend, whose extended hand he took, "this is kind of you indeed. You had heard, then, of the outrage of these Malay people, and have come to have us freed." "Outrage!" cried the Princess indignantly. "Who has dared to hurt you?" "That we do not know," cried Hilton, eagerly. "You must discover that. I am glad to see you indeed." "And I you," she replied, smiling in the young officer's face, as he retained her hand. "Ah, Mr Chumbley," she continued, extending her left. "I am very pleased to meet you once again." Chumbley shook the hand stretched out to him, and smiled as he looked curiously at their visitor, for slow of movement as he was, he was quick of apprehension, and he did not place his companion's interpretation upon the meeting. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "I hope you were not hurt, Mr Chumbley," she said. "Oh, but we were," cried Hilton, quickly, and before his friend could speak. "We were seized and dragged here by a pack of scoundrels who did not spare us much." "Ah, yes, I have just come," she said. "I heard that you both fought very hard, like the brave, strong Englishmen you are, and some of the men were hurt, and badly too." "Chumbley there did his best," said Hilton, "of course; but by whose orders was this done? You can tell me, I hope." "Yes," drawled Chumbley, drily, "the Princess can tell you, I should say." "Yes," said the Princess, smiling from one to the other. "You were brought here to this my hunting-home in the jungle by my orders, but no violence was to be used." "By your orders!" cried Hilton, dropping her hand as if it had burned him, and falling back a step, with the anger flashing from his eyes. "The Princess tells you it is her hunting-box," drawled Chumbley, drily; "she evidently meant to give us a surprise." "Be silent, Chumbley," said Hilton, indignantly. "Her highness was afraid that we might not get leave of absence, or that we should decline to come," continued Chumbley. "Oh, this is too much!" cried Hilton. "Do not be angry," said the Princess, speaking in a low, sweet tone, full of pleading tenderness. "I know it seems strange to you English people, but our ways are different to yours."