The Princess clenched her hands, and stood there with flashing eyes, gazing from one to the other, and for some moments it seemed as if she could not speak. "No," she cried at last, in a short, angry voice, "no boat shall take you back!" "Then we must go back without," said Hilton, firmly. "Now, Chumbley, this folly has gone too far. Come quickly, and use force if we are driven to it by this foolish woman's acts!" As he spoke he moved towards the door, and laying his hand upon the latch, he threw it open so that it struck loudly against the bamboo wall. VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. "OUR POSITION IS ABSURD." As the door flew open, Hilton found himself confronted by a dozen spearmen; and he would have still advanced had not Chumbley held him back. "You forgot that you were a prisoner," said the Princess, quietly, but with a triumphant look in her eyes. "There are fifty more brave men beyond those, and they would kill you at a word from me." "And that word you would not speak," said Hilton, smiling in her face. "Why not?" she cried defiantly. "For several reasons," he said, quietly. "First, because I am an officer of the Queen of England, madam." "I am queen here," she retorted. "What is your queen to me?" "Another reason is--that you would not have me killed," he said, lightly; and he evaded Chumbley's touch and stepped through the door; but six razor-keen spear-points were presented so suddenly at his breast, that, brave as he was, Hilton involuntarily started back, and to his great annoyance the Princess smiled mockingly in turn. Captain Hilton was a soldier, and ready to risk his life when need should be; but he felt that there were limits even to the valour a man should show, and this was evidently a time to make a movement towards the rear. He turned to Chumbley, to find that he had not moved, but was leaning, with his arms folded across his broad chest, against the wooden framework of the cane-woven wall, and he looked his companion steadily in the face. "Well!" exclaimed Hilton, angrily, as he sought some object upon which to vent the spleen rising within his breast; and his friend being the nearest object, he received the verbal blows. "Why don't you come and face these scoundrels with me? Are you afraid?" "Eh? Afraid?" said Chumbley, rousing himself from his dreamy state. "No, I don't think I was, old fellow. I was wondering whether we were British officers in a Malay jungle facing realities, or the same two fellows fresh from dining at the club, turned into a couple of stalls at a theatre and watching the progress of some drama of a certain type." "Then wake up to the fact that it is reality!" cried Hilton, sharply, "and help me to act, unless you want to stay here for life." "All right, dear boy," said Chumbley, resuming his drawling style. "Only, what are we to do? I'm ready for anything almost, but I'm not going to run my noble chest against those fellows' spears. Where's the good?"