"You forget where you are," he said. "This is one of my homes, and this is my land. I am poor Rajah Murad whom you look upon with contempt at Sindang station; but here I am the people's Lord. Who dare contradict me or disobey commands? No one. For the life or death of my people rests with me. So you may leave that window and accept your lot." Helen did not move. "There, put away all that silly woman's play!" he cried. "I tell you it is like my foolish native girls behave. You are an English lady, and should be wiser. Come, let us be friends at once, and I will become more English for your sake. You will forgive me for bringing you away; it was the love I bore you made me act as I did. You will forgive me, will you not? Have I not had you made ten times more beautiful than you were before?" He made a feint, and then a couple of quick strides towards her, and this time caught her by the wrist; but in her dread and horror she wrenched it away, and struck him sharply across the face as she would have struck at some noxious beast; and as he started back in surprise, she bounded to the door, and tried to wrench it open. Murad's love appeared to turn in a moment to furious hate; his eyes darkened and seemed to emit a lurid light; his teeth appeared between his lips, which were drawn apart like those of some wild beast, and the man's savage nature blazed out in a moment under the affront. In an instant his hand sought the hilt of his kris, and tearing the weapon from its sheath, he pursued his prisoner as she fled from him shrieking round the room. Helen fled from him but for a few moments, and then she stopped short and faced him, offering herself to his blow. This brave act disarmed him, checking his rage, which seemed to have flashed out, and his English education began to tell. Muttering impatiently, he thrust the kris back into its sheath, and uttered a forced laugh. "Foolish girl!" he cried, "why did you strike me? It is folly! It makes me angry. A Malay never forgives a blow; but you have made me English, and I forgive you because--because you make me fond. But it was wild and foolish. I give you my love, you play with me and strike me a blow. A woman should not strike the man she loves." Helen did not reply, but rushed to and tore furiously at the door. "Why do you tire yourself?" he cried, with a contemptuous laugh. "What good can you do? I tell you once again my people dare not stir to help you, even if you wished; and I know enough of woman's nature to tell that, from such a finished coquette as you have always been, this is but a false show of dread." Helen's despair grew deeper as she listened to the Rajah's words, and reading her thoughts aright, he went on calmly enough: