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Middy and Ensign, a fiction by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 15. How The Sultan Was Put Off With Words

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_ CHAPTER FIFTEEN. HOW THE SULTAN WAS PUT OFF WITH WORDS

There was a good deal of communication now between the sultan and the resident, and rumours began flying about that the former proposed paying a visit to the residency; but the days glided by, and it did not take place. The men who had been wounded were rapidly recovering; and after several attempts to find the missing prahus, it was announced one evening, in a quiet way, that there was to be another expedition down the river, for information had been brought in by a Malay boatman, who had been employed to act as a scout, that the two vessels were lying-up in a creek on the left bank of the river. It would therefore be quite easy for the steamer to float down stream off where they lay, and either send in boats to the attack or to shatter them by sweeping the mangroves with the steamer's great guns, for the prahus lay behind a thick grove of these trees some twenty or thirty yards across, quite sufficient for a screen, but worse than useless as a protection if the heavy guns were once brought to bear.

Messages had come again and again from the sultan, urging that the power of the rajah should be thoroughly crushed; in fact, his requests almost took the tone of a command.

There was a disposition to resent this, but it was felt better to temporise, and word was sent to the sultan by a trusty messenger that something would be done.

The result of this was another visit from the leading chiefs, who rather startled the resident by the message they brought, which was to the effect that their master thought it would be better that his marriage to the two Englishwomen should take place at once; and what did Mr Linton think of the next day?

Mr Linton thought, but he did not tell the sultan's ambassadors so, that he would consult Major Sandars and Captain Horton; and this he did while the messengers waited.

Major Sandars blew his nose very loudly, and said he should like to kick the villain.

Captain Horton said that nothing would give him greater pleasure than to have this Mr Hamet tied up and to give him six dozen.

"This is all very well, gentlemen," said Mr Linton, smiling; "but it does not help me out of my difficulty. What am I to say so as not to offend this man?"

"Oh, you must offend him," said the major. "I can see nothing for it, but to send him word that the English ladies are greatly honoured by the sultan's proposal, but that they cannot accept it."

Captain Horton nodded approval, and the resident agreed that they could do nothing better; so the message was delivered to the sultan's ambassadors, who looked exceedingly depressed upon hearing it, and as if they would have gladly exchanged places with somebody else.

"Those fellows expect to get into trouble," said the major, as he noticed the change.

He was quite right, for the two chiefs took their departure, looking as if they expected to be introduced by their wrathful ruler to the execution kris as soon as they returned.

The troops had been expecting orders for a trip down the river in search of the two prahus, but the command came upon them, as such matters usually do, just when it was least expected. One company, under Captain Smithers, was ordered to embark, but to Tom Long's great disgust, he found he was not included.

He hurried to the doctor's quarters, and found that gentleman busy with a case of instruments, open before him.

"Look here, Long," he said; "did you ever see such a wretched country as this? Everything rusts; look at my instruments."

"Yes, sir, it is terrible; such fine steel too."

"Fine steel? There isn't a better case in the army. I could do anything with these tools."

Tom Long shuddered as he glanced at the long, fearfully keen knives, and the saw--so horribly suggestive of taking off arms and legs.

Doctor Bolter saw it, and smiled to himself.

"Come to say good-bye, Long?" he said, as he stuffed some lint into a pouch, with some bandages. "I'm not a lighting man, and don't mean to be killed."

"No, sir. I came to ask you to let me go--to give me a certificate, saying I am quite well enough."

"But you are not, my dear boy. You are too weak."

"Weak, sir? No, I feel as strong as a lion. Let me go, doctor."

"What nonsense, my dear lad! I'm not the commandant. Ask the major."

"No, sir," said Tom Long. "You are not the commandant by name, but from the major downwards you do just as you like with us. Hang me if I'd have drunk such filthy stuff as you gave me, by the major's orders. I'd sooner have lost my commission."

"Ha, ha, ha!--Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the doctor. "That's very good, Long, very good indeed. I suppose I do get the better of all of you in turn. Ha, ha, ha! But look here, my dear boy, I don't think you are well enough yet."

"Do let me go, doctor," pleaded Tom. "There, I don't want to _fight_, but let me go with you and help you. This dreadful do-nothing sort of life seems to make me worse."

"Idleness is bad for any man," said the doctor.

Tom Long felt flattered at being called a man, but still looked pleadingly at the doctor.

"I could take care of your instruments, sir, and hand you what you wanted if there were any of our fellows hurt."

"Humph! yes, you could do that," said the doctor. "But look here," he said, gazing searchingly into the youth's face; "did you take your medicine to-day?"

"Yes, sir, three times," cried Tom, eagerly; for, after neglecting it for two days previously, he had taken it that day by way of a salve to his conscience.

"Then you shall go," said the doctor. "Be quick. Get your great-coat-- and mind, you are to be my assistant."

Tom Long ran back to his quarters, and doctor's assistant or no, he buckled on his sword, and stuck his revolver in its case, before putting on his grey great-coat; meeting the detachment on its way down to the boat.

"Hallo, Long, what are you doing here?" said Captain Smithers. "You are not detailed for duty."

"No," said the doctor, sharply, "he is coming on hospital service."

There was no time for argument, so they marched on down to the "Startler's" boats, which were waiting, and at once put off silently, the swift stream bearing them quickly to the steamer's side, as she lay there with her steam up, but not a light visible to tell those upon the shore of the projected expedition. There was the low dull hiss and snort of the escaping steam; and one versed in such matters would have noticed that the steamer had let go her moorings at the stem, and swung round in the stream, holding on hard by the stern, ready to slip the cable and start.

But Captain Horton felt pretty secure of getting away unobserved; and trusting to the keen eyes of a couple of Malay boatmen, he calculated upon getting the steamer just abreast of the mangrove creek where the prahus lay, and then dealing with them and their crews as he pleased.

The distance down was about ten miles; and the stream was so swift, that in a couple of hours the steamer would have run down without the aid of her screw; but it was proposed to steam for about two-thirds of the distance, and then drift in silence, with a turn of the screw now and then to keep her head right.

The river was so deep, and clear of obstruction, that there was nothing to fear in their journey down, while fortunately the night, though not illuminated by the moon, was tolerably light.

The arrangements were soon made, and directly the boats were hoisted up the cable was slipped from the great buoy, and the steamer drifted down stream, the steam power being kept in abeyance until they were some distance below the campong.

In his character of doctor's assistant, Tom Long did not mix with the officers in command of the little detachment, and was standing aloof leaning over the bulwarks, and gazing at the fire-flies on the shore, when he heard a familiar voice close by.

"Think those Malay chaps will be able to see the creek on a night like this, Dick?"

"See it, Master Roberts, sir? Why, I could see it myself if I tried, and knowed where to look for it. Bless yer 'art, they Malay chaps have got eyes like cats, and can see in the dark."

"Oh yes, I dare say," said Bob. "Well, all I can say is, I hope we shall knock the prahus into splinters. I do owe those fellows a grudge for being chucked overboard as I was. It makes me feel wet now to think of it."

"Yes, that 'ere war a rum 'un, Master Roberts, sir," said Dick, solemnly. "Now, look here, sir, you being a boy like, and not wanted, if I was you, I'd just go down below, get on my perch, and tuck myself up and go to roost where I should be quite safe."

"Thank you, Dick," said Bob, quietly; "I'm going to stop on deck, and then go with the party ashore. We'll leave the old men and old women on board to take charge of the ship till we come back."

"That's as good as saying I'm a reg'lar old woman, Master Roberts, sir," said Dick, grinning.

Bob did not condescend to reply, but walked aft a little way, to where he could see a dark figure half-leaning, half-sitting in the darkness upon a gun, and looking over the bulwarks.

"Here, you sir," he said sharply, "come away from that gun. Why are you not with the detachment forward there?"

"Oh, you be hanged!" said a familiar voice.

"What? Tom Long?"

"That's my name, Mr Roberts," said the dark figure.

"Why, I thought you were in hospital yet."

"I'm on hospital service," replied Tom. "I got the doctor to bring me."

"I say--I am glad," said Bob. "Eh?"

He stopped short, for Tom Long had pinched his arm.

"Isn't that a long low vessel moored there under the bank?" said Tom.

Bob looked long and attentively.

"I think so--two of them," he said. "I'll tell the officer of the watch."

He turned aft and pointed out the dimly seen objects.

"Yes, I think they are prahus moored to the trees," he said, examining them through the glass.

The officer reported what he had seen to the captain, who also inspected them through a night-glass.

"Yes, coasting boats, I think. We'll overhaul them as we come back, we must not stop now."

The vessel was now steaming steadily down stream, not quickly, for there were too many turns, but sufficiently fast to bring them rapidly near their goal.

"Let's see; I want to have a talk to you, Tom Long, about a trip ashore--shooting," said Bob.

"Silence there, young gentleman," said the officer of the watch sternly, and then Bob was called suddenly away, so that he had no opportunity for a quiet chat with the young ensign.

Meanwhile the heavy throb throb of the steamer was the only noise heard save some weird cry of animal or bird in the dense jungle on either side. But every now and then as the waves and wash of the steamer rolled ashore, churning up the mud, they startled the dull, heavy alligators into activity, sending them scurrying off the muddy banks into deep water, to await the passing of the, to them, large water monster, whose great bulk dwarfed them into insignificance the most extreme.

Lower and lower down stream went the steamer with the dense black line of jungle on either side, till at the suggestion of the Malay pilots the steam was turned off, a couple of boats lowered, and the position of the vessel being reversed, she was allowed to float down head to stream, for quite another half-hour, when the word having been given, a small anchor that had been hanging down in the water was let go, without so much as a plash, the stout hemp cable ran quietly out, and the vessel was checked just off the narrow mouth of a creek, which seemed to run up amidst the palms and undergrowth, for there were no mangroves till the tidal waters were reached.

There was a little rapid passing to and fro here, and a couple of boats were silently lowered down, to go a quarter of a mile below to watch the other entrance to the creek, for the Malays were too fox-like not to have a hole for exit as well as one for entry. But everything was done in the most noiseless manner, so that when three more boats full of soldiers, marines, and sailors rowed off for the creek, no one would have imagined that they had slipped off on a deadly errand, or that the steamer was cleared for action, the guns shotted and every man ready to let loose a deadly hail that should cut down the jungle like a scythe amidst the corn.

But the British officers had yet to learn that the Malays were more than their equals in cunning. No sooner had the steamer passed on into the bank of mist and darkness that overhung the river, than there was a rustle, a splash, the rattling noise of large oars being thrust out, and in a couple of minutes the two long snaky prahus they had passed crammed with fighting men were gliding up stream towards the residency, where certainly there were sentries on guard, but no dread of an enemy at hand.

The boats then had pushed off from the steamer, which lay ready to help them, and rowing out of the swift waters of the river they began to ascend the dark and muddy creek, when Bob Roberts, who was with the lieutenant and part of the soldiers in the same boat suddenly whispered--

"Hark! wasn't that distant firing?"

They listened, but could hear nothing, and the lieutenant was about to order the men to pull more sharply, when Bob touched his arm again.

"I'm sure that's firing, sir," he said.

"Nonsense, Roberts! absurd! Sit still and be silent. What firing could it be? We are ten miles from the residency."

"I can't help it, sir, if we are twenty," said Bob, sharply. "I'm sure it was firing, and there it goes again."

"Silence, sir," said the lieutenant, angrily. "Give way, my lads, give way."

The ship's boats glided on over the smooth water, the men rowing with muffled oars; and so steadily that the blades seemed to be dipping in without making a splash.

The creek grew narrower, so that they had to keep right in the middle to avoid letting the oar blades brush the reeds, and so they rowed on, but without seeing anything resembling a prahu.

As to their direction, that they could not tell, but the shape of the creek they believed to be that of a bow--at least so the Malays had described it; and as the two ends of the bow must rest upon the river, they were sure, unless they struck up some narrow tortuous way, to come out at the other mouth and join the boats.

They went on very cautiously, with the midshipman anxious to talk to Tom Long, who sat beside him, but forbidden now to utter so much as a whisper. The oars dipped and rose, dipped and rose, without a sound, and sometimes a reed or water plant rustled slightly as it brushed the sides of the boats.

That in which the lieutenant was in command led the weird procession, Captain Smithers being in the next, while the third, nearly full of marines, every man with his loaded rifle between his knees, was close behind.

Still there was no sign of the prahus, and to the lieutenant's great annoyance, he found that in the darkness they must have turned up the sluggish stream that flowed into the creek, and missed the continuation, which was probably masked with reeds.

He felt ready to stamp with vexation, but controlling himself he passed the word, and the boats backed down the stream, that in which the officer in command was seated, naturally being the last of the three.

"Wouldn't it have been better to have brought the Malays, sir?" said Bob.

"Yes, of course; but the cowards were afraid to come, my good lad," said the lieutenant.

"There, sir," whispered Bob again, "isn't that firing?"

"If you say another word to me about your confounded firing," said the lieutenant sharply, "I'll have you gagged, sir."

"I don't want to talk about it, sir," grumbled Bob, "but I'm sure there's something wrong up yonder."

"And I'm sure there's something wrong here, Mr Roberts," said the lieutenant, "and that's enough for me to attend to."

They went back in silence for some time, and then Tom Long, whose eyes were unusually good, pointed to a part of the reed-bed on the right.

"Is not that the continuation of the creek, sir?"

"Yes, to be sure, so it is," said the lieutenant. "We can see it coming this way. It's masked by those trees the other way. Steady, my lads; steady. Let us go first."

The creek was wider here, so the boats turned, and retook their former positions; but still there was no sign of the prahus.

"Those scoundrels must have led us wrong," muttered the lieutenant; "there's nothing here. Why, yonder's the open river, isn't it; or is it a wider space? Yes, thank goodness; there are the prahus after all."

He waited till the other boats closed up, and then whispered his final orders, appointing two boats to attack one of the prahus while he made for the other alone.

"Now then," he whispered, "are you all ready? A bold dash, my lads, and they are ours."

"Please, sir," said old Dick.

"What is it?" cried the lieutenant, angrily.

"Them's our own two boats. I'd swear to 'em."

"And I'm sure that's _firing_," cried Bob, aloud.

"Yes," said Tom Long, speaking excitedly; "those were the two prahus we passed on the way down."

"And they are attacking the residency," cried Bob.

Even as he spoke there was a shot fired from the steamer to recall the boats, and the men bent to their stout ashen oars with all their might, the lieutenant as he leaped on board being met by Captain Horton with--

"These Malay tigers are a little too cunning for us, Johnson. Those were the prahus we passed on the way down."

"Yes, sir, another slip; but we may have them yet." _

Read next: Chapter 16. How Private Sim Took A Nap, And Found It Unpleasant

Read previous: Chapter 14. How Bob Roberts Made A Firm Friend

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