I've planned and wrought, and dared and fought,
And all my tale is told;
I've made my kill, and felt the chill
Of blades that stab and hew,
And my only theme, as I sit and dream,
Is the deeds I was wont to do.

These things were told me by Raja Haji Hamid, as he and I lay smoking on
our mats during the cool, still hours before the dawn. He was a Selangor
man who had accompanied me to the East Coast, as chief of my followers,
a band of ruffians, who at that time were engaged in helping me to act
as 'the bait at the tip of the fish-hook,' in an Independent Malay
State--to use the phrase then current among my people.

We had passed the evening in the King's _Balai_ watching the Chinamen
raking in their gains, while the Malays gambled and cursed their luck,
with much slapping of thighs, and frequent references to God and his
Prophet,--according to whose teaching gaming is an unclean thing. The
sight of the play, and of the fierce passions which it aroused, had
awakened memories in Raja Haji's mind, and it was evidently not without
a pang that he remembered that the turban round his head,--which his
increasing years, and his manifold sins, had driven him to Mecca to
seek,--forbade him to partake publicly in the unholy sport. Like most of
those who have outgrown their pleasant vices, he had a hearty admiration
for his old, prodigal, unregenerate self; and, as I lay listening, he
spoke lovingly of the old days at Selangor, before the coming of the
white men.

'Allah Tuan! I loved those old times exceedingly! When the Company had
not yet come to Selangor, when all were shy of Si-Hamid, and none dared
face his _kris_, the "Chinese Axe." I never felt the grip of poverty in
those times, for my supplies were ever at the tip of my dagger, and they
were few who dared withhold aught which I desired or coveted!'

'Did I ever tell thee, _Tuan_, the tale of how the gamblers of Klang
yielded up the money of their banks to me without resistance; or the
turn of a dice box? No? Ah, that was a pleasant tale, and a deed which
was famous throughout Selangor, and gave me a very great name.

'It was in this wise. I was in a sorry case, for the boats had ceased to
ply on the river through fear of me, and my followers were few, so that
I could not rush a town or a Chinese _kongsi_ house. As for the village
people, they were as poor as I, and, save for their women-folk, I never
harassed them. Now, one day, my wives