ted a few moments, to allow of the coming of the
lieutenant; and meanwhile they all gazed at the Malay, a wild,
half-naked fellow, whose scraps of clothing were torn by contact with
thorns, and being soaked with water clung to his copper-coloured skin.

He was scratched and bleeding, and gazed sharply round from one to the
other in a strange wild-eyed way, as if feeling that he was not safe.

Just then the lieutenant came hurrying up, and the Malay, evidently
supposing him to be the officer he sought, began to unfasten a knot in
his sarong, from which he took a short piece of bamboo about the size of
a man's finger. One end of this was plugged with a piece of pith, and
this he drew out, and then from inside, neatly rolled up and quite dry,
a little piece of paper.

"You Cap-tain Smit-ter?" said the Malay.

"No, my man, that is the captain," said the lieutenant, pointing.
"Cap-tain Smit-ter. Ali Rajah send," said the man, holding out the
paper.

"Did Ali send us this?" said the captain, eagerly.

"Cap-tain Smit-ter, Ali Rajah send," said the man again.

"Where did you leave him?" said the captain.

"Cap-tain Smit-ter, Ali Rajah send," repeated the man, parrot fashion,
showing plainly enough that he had been trained to use these words and
no more.

Captain Smithers unrolled the scrap of native paper to find written
thereon,--

"Found the party. Fighting for life in a stockade. Send help in
steamer up right river.--Ali."

"Have you come straight from him?" exclaimed the captain, eagerly.

"Cap-tain Smit-ter, Ali Rajah send," said the man again.

"Where is Wilson?" cried the captain, "or Gray? Ah, you are here, Gray.
You have made some progress with the Malay tongue. See what this man
knows."

Private Gray came forward, and by degrees, and with no little
difficulty, learned from the Malay that the English party were in an old
stockade upon a branch of the river, forty miles away, defending
themselves against a strong body of the sultan's forces.

"Ask if they are well," said the captain.

"He says there are many ill, and many wounded, and that they have buried
many under the palm-trees," said Gray, in a low sad voice, "and that
when the young chief, Ali, came upon them, they were at the last
extremity from weakness and hunger."

Rachel Linton uttered a low wail, but on Mrs Major Sandars passing an
arm round her, she made an effort and mastered her emotion, fixing her
eyes on Adam Gray as, in a lo