e said. "I have not heard you say a
word that promises to help us out of our difficulty."

"Ah, Mr Murray!" said the doctor, "I had almost forgotten you. Yes, it
is us indeed. Well, sir, you see now our position; what can we say or
do?"

"Surely you are not going to stand still, and see that insolent savage
force his attentions upon your daughter."

"Sir, I would sooner see her dead than hurried into such a degrading
position, but you know how we are situated, and our utter helplessness."

"But you will send for help. Mr Wilson at his station--Dindong--
assured me that in a case of necessity he would see that we were
protected."

"How would you send the message, sir?"

"By some Malay. He must be bribed heavily. Plenty would be glad to
make the venture."

"Where will you find them, sir? Do you know that you would be sending
the man to certain death?"

"Surely not."

"The river is closely watched night and day. No boat could pass down
unseen."

"But a man might swim say a few hundred yards," cried Murray. "I would
go myself."

"And if you escaped the crocodiles, which is not likely, what would you
do then?"

"Land, and follow the stream by the bank."

The doctor uttered a low laugh.

"My dear sir, you do not know what you are saying; the bank for miles
inland is utterly impassable."

"Then the other way by that elephant track."

"Farther into the enemy's country. No, sir; there is only one route--
the river; and so far, I can only see violence as the way, and we are
too weak to attempt that--too weak, or the rajah is too strong."

"Then do I understand you to mean that you are going to remain
prostrate, and bow down your necks for this man to trample upon you?"

"Mr Murray," interposed Mr Braine, "you are too hard. You are losing
your temper. Recollect, sir, that we are placed in a position whose
difficulties you even now hardly realise."

"Indeed you are wrong, Mr Braine!" cried Murray, hotly.

"Then remember, sir, you are speaking to a gentleman--a father, whose
heart is wrung by the position in which he is placed."

"Yes, I am wrong," said Murray, warmly; "but have some pity for me too.
Doctor Barnes, you cannot be blind to what I think and feel. All this
is agonising to me. Look here, sir; do you think I have not brains
enough to see that this man reads me and my sentiments toward your
daughter. The scoundrel--the insolent barbarian! he is actually
jealous, and under his smi