of the floor, and
seeking about, and--Why, it was a hand, and it grasped his wrist! Ali
wanted to call aloud, but he felt as if suffering from nightmare; to
leap up, but he felt helpless, and lay bathed in perspiration. He knew
what it was now; some miscreant beneath the house, seeking out where he
lay.

He knew of plenty of cases where men had been assassinated by an enemy
finding out where they slept in a room, and then quietly going beneath
in the night, and thrusting his kris between the bamboos.

This, then, was the way in which he was to be slain--as if it had been
done by some stranger. One of his guards then must be beneath the
house, though he had not heard one go out.

And yet, knowing all this, he could not stir, but lay as if stunned,
till the blood that had been frozen seemed suddenly to start in rapid
action, and his veins began to throb, for instead of the blade of a kris
being thrust remorselessly into his side, the handle was softly pushed
through against his hand.

This was a friend then below him, and had he had any doubt before, the
soft pressure of a hand upon his told him that he was right, for there
was a ring upon one finger that touched his, whose form he recognised.
It was his father's ring, and he had come at the risk of losing his own
life to save his son's.

For a few moments hand pressed hand. Then Ali's was drawn softly down
between the bamboos, and two hands placed it under one of the long,
split canes upon which he was lying, held it there, and then pressed it
upwards.

Ali was puzzled. He dare not speak, neither did the Tumongong below
venture so much as to whisper, but kept on forcing his son's hand
upwards.

There was a faint creak, and then the light came into Ali's puzzled
brain. It was plain enough now; this bamboo had been loosened at one
end, for it gave way; and the young man's heart throbbed painfully, as
he felt that the way of escape was open. He had but to wait his time,
and then softly raise this one broad, split cane, to make space enough
to let himself slide through into the open space beneath the
post-supported house. Then the jungle was before him, and it was his
own fault if he did not escape in the darkness.

He left off clasping the broad, split bamboo, and stretched out his hand
once more to clasp that of his father, in expression of his
thankfulness; but though he reached out in all directions, striving to
grasp the loving hand that had brought h