brandy gave him new life, and he displayed it by
throwing himself on his knees before Doctor Bolter, and clasping one of
his legs with his uninjured arm.

"Don't go back, master," he cried piteously. "You have been so good to
me that I could not bear to see you krissed. Stay away, and I will keep
you safely. My life is yours, for you saved it; and I am your slave."

"My good fellow," said the doctor, sadly, as he laid his hand upon the
Malay's shoulder, "you do not understand Englishmen."

"Yes, yes, I do," cried the Malay. "I like--I love Englishmen, I was
servant to the young chief Ali before the sultan had him krissed."

"Young Ali krissed?" cried the doctor.

"Yes, he was too much friends with the Englishmen, and made the sultan
jealous."

"And the wretch had that brave, noble young fellow killed?"

"Yes," said the Malay, sadly. "His father, the Tumongong, prayed upon
his knees that the brave boy's life might be spared, and offered to send
him out of the country. But the sultan laughed, and said that the young
chief would come back again with a swarm of English soldiers, and seize
the jewels, and put him to death, and make himself sultan. Then the
Tumongong swore an oath that Ali should never come back, and went down
on his face before Sultan Hamet; but the sultan drew his kris and
pricked him with it in the shoulder, and told him that he should die if
he named his son again."

"The villain! That brave, noble young fellow, too!" said the doctor,
excitedly.

"Yes; he was so brave and handsome," cried the Malay. "I loved him, but
I was obliged to hide it all, for if I had spoken one word they would
have krissed me, and thrown me into the river. So I had to be silent;
but when they wanted some one to go with you I offered, and they said
`Yes' because I could speak English, and the sultan gave me my orders."

"And what were they?" said the doctor, sharply.

"To wait till to-night, and then lead you out of the jungle if you did
not want to go, and stab you with my kris."

"And you did not do it?"

The Malay smiled, and drew his kris in its sheath from out of the folds
of his sarong, handing it to the doctor.

"I am not a murderer," he said.

"But suppose the sultan had asked you why you did not kill me," said the
doctor, "what then?"

"I should have told him a lie. He is a liar, and full of deceit. We do
not think it wrong to deal with such a man in the coins he gives. I
should have said