The ladies were silent for a little while; no word was spoken, with the exception of a sigh that now and then escaped from poor Thieng, partly to indicate the responsibilities of her position, and partly to show that the particular member which was being manipulated was the one most affected. Whatever might have been the question between the ladies, the doctor waited for Thieng to give the word, and Thieng evidently waited for the termination of my visit. But seeing that I made no attempt to go, she at length turned to the doctor, and said: "My pen arai, phöt thöe, yai kluâ" (Never mind, speak out, don't be afraid), all of which I understood as perfectly as I did English. The doctor ceased her manipulations, and, after having cast a cautious glance round the room and shaken her head sorrowfully, remarked: "I don't think she'll live many weeks longer." Thieng sat bolt upright, and, clasping her hands together, said, "Phoodth thô!"[31] "It is impossible," added the doctor, very earnestly. "It were better to put her to death at once than to kill her by inches, as they are now doing." "P'hra Buddh the Chow,[32] help us!" cried Thieng, still more agitated. "What shall I do? What can I do to save her?" "Something must be done, and at once," replied the doctor, suggestively. "Well," said Thieng, "why don't you draw up a paper and give it to Mai Ying Thaphan?" (the chief of the Amazons.) "And now mind that you say she cannot live a day longer unless she is removed from that close cell and allowed to take an airing every day." "Poor child! poor child!" repeated Thieng, tenderly, to herself. "With such a noble heart to perish in such a way! I wish I could find some means to help her to live a little longer, till things begin to look more bright." "He has forgotten all about her by this time," rejoined the doctor. The physician then took her leave of Thieng, and I inquired if they had been speaking of the Princess Sunartha Vismita. The good lady started and looked at me as if she supposed me to be supernaturally endowed with the art of unravelling mysteries. "Why! how do you know the name," said she, "when we never even mentioned it?" I then told her of the visit I had had from May-Peâh, and begged of her to help me to deliver the letter to the dying princess as soon as possible. "We are all prisoners here, dear friend," said Thieng, "and we have to be very careful what we do; but if you promise never to say a word on this subject to any one, and in case of discovery to bear all the blame, whatever that may be, yourself, I'll help you." I gave her the required promise gladly, and thanked her warmly at the same time. "You must not think me weak and selfish, dear mam," said she, after a little reflection. "You are a foreigner, he has not the same power over you, and you can go away whenever you like; but we who are his subjects must stay here and suffer his will and pleasure, whatever happens."