There was no mistaking it, and the doctor's fingers tightened upon his gun, as he saw how rapidly his pursuers were gaining; while his own men were becoming terribly jaded by their tremendous efforts, and moment by moment their strokes were losing force. Worse still, as he gazed back, he could see that something was going on in the bows of the prahu, and he needed no telling what it was--they were again loading and training their heavy gun; and "if," the doctor thought, "they wing us now, our chances are gone!" It was not a pleasant thing to do, to stand there offering himself as it were for a target to the next shot; but this did not occur to the doctor, who kept his ground, and the next moment there was a puff of white smoke from the prahu's side. VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER SIXTEEN. BLIND AS A MOLE--IS SAID TO BE. "Poor Perowne seems nearly heartbroken," said the Resident, as they went down the path; and then bitterly, the words slipping out, incidental upon one or two remarks of Hilton's--"He seems to suffer more than you." "I feel as much hurt at Miss Perowne's abduction as does any man at the station," said Hilton, hotly; "but if you mean, Mr Harley, that I am not grieving like a suitor of this lady should, you are quite right." "Quite right?" said the Resident, quickly. "I said quite right," replied Hilton, sternly; "every pretension on my part was at an end before the night of that unfortunate party." "I beg your pardon, Hilton," cried the Resident, warmly. "I am not myself. I ought not to have spoken in so contemptibly mean a way. Bear with me; for what with my public duties, and the suspense and agony of this affair, my feelings have at times been maddening." "Bear with you, yes!" said Hilton, warmly. "Harley, I sympathise with you. I do indeed, and believe me, I will be your right hand in this matter; but we have had so little chance of talking together. Tell me what has been done." "Comparatively nothing," replied the Resident. "I have been helpless. I have had my suspicions; but, situated as I was, I could not act upon suspicion only; and when, to satisfy myself, I have tried diplomatic--as we call mean, but really underhanded--means by spies to find out if there was anything wrong, every attempt has failed." "You have sent out people to search then?" "Scores!" cried the Resident; "but in the majority of cases I feel certain that I have only been paying Murad's creatures; and when I have not, but obtained people from down the river, the cunning Malays have blinded them to the facts." "I see." "Then Murad himself, he has been indefatigable with his help." "To throw you off the scent," said Hilton.