thin the house. The women rushed in, and found the
little bride lying on the floor, with all the pretty garments, with
which she had been bedecked, drenched in her own blood. A small clasp
knife lay by her side, and there was a ghastly gash in her throat. The
women lifted her up, and strove to staunch the bleeding, and as they
fought to stay the life that was ebbing from her, the drone of the
priests, and the beat of the drums, came to their ears from the men who
were making merry without. Then suddenly the news of what had occurred
spread among the guests, and the music died away, and was replaced by a
babble of excited voices, all speaking at once.

The father of the girl rushed in, and, as she lay on the sleeping
platform, still conscious, he asked her who had done this thing.

'It is my own handiwork,' she said.

'But wherefore, child of mine,' cried her mother, 'but wherefore dost
thou desire to slay thyself?'

'I gazed upon my likeness in the mirror,' said the girl, speaking slowly
and with difficulty, 'and I beheld that I was very hideous to look upon,
so that it was not fitting that I should live. Therefore I did it.'

And until she died, about an hour later, this, and this only, was the
explanation which she would give. The matter was related to me by the
great up-country Chief, the Dato' Mahraja Perba, who said that he had
never heard of any parallel case. I jestingly told him that he should
be careful not to allow this deed to become a precedent, for there are
many ugly women in his district, and if they all followed this girl's
example, the population would soon have dwindled sadly. Later, when I
learned the real reasons which led to this suicide, I was sorry that I
had ever jested about it, for the girl's was a sad little story.

Some months before, a Pekan born Malay had come to the Jelai on a
trading expedition, and had cast his eyes upon the girl. To her, he was
all that the people of the surrounding villages were not. He walked with
a swagger, wore his weapons and his clothes with an air that none but a
Court-bred Malay knows how to assume, and was full of brave tales, which
the elders of the village could only listen to with wonder and respect.
As the brilliant form of Lancelot burst upon the startled sight of the
Lady of Shalott, so did this man--an equally splendid vision in the eyes
of this poor little up-country maid--come into her life, bringing with
him hopes and desires, that she had never