One Maid's Mischief Part 93

"When you are seated," he said, with a smile of triumph playing about his lips.

She hesitated for a moment or two, and then sat down, Murad following her example, and contenting himself, as she seemed ready to start away, with placing the wine-cup at her side, and seating himself opposite.

"That is better," he said, smiling. "Now make me happy by letting me see you eat."

Every mouthful seemed as if it would choke her, and her heart beat wildly as she thought of her unprotected state; but she battled bravely with her feelings, and spoke quietly, answering the Rajah's questions, and striving all the while for strength and courage to carry out her designs.

As for Murad, he was perfectly triumphant in his way. The victory was his; and with all the pride of a weak man at his success in bringing the handsome English beauty to her knees, he laughed merrily, making Helen s.h.i.+ver as she saw the wild excitement in his eyes, and listened to the compliments he paid to her beauty.

"I like you the more for your brave resistance," he said; "and most of all for your cleverness and wisdom. You see that it is of no use to fight, so like a wise captain you surrender."

He laughed again, and kept his flaming eyes fixed upon her.

"You shall be my queen, Helen," he said, talking in a quick, excited way. "You shall help me to fight all my enemies, and drive them out, till all the country round is mine, for you are Malayan now, and your people will have to go. I shall not slay them. No: they will find they have no position here, and they will go as they came; but you will stay.

You will not wish to leave me, my queen. You will not wish to be white again. But you have not drunk your wine. Come: you must drink, Helen; it is my cup, and I wish to drink again."

She took up the cup and held it to him, Murad taking it with a bow and smile, holding her fingers within his pressed against the side of the vessel, and keeping them prisoned there.

She did not shrink, but sat motionless, her hand becoming deathly cold, and the dank perspiration gathering upon her brow.

"No," he said at last, with a smile; "it is not fair. You must drink to me. See!" he continued, raising the cup to his lips, and holding it there for some moments. "I drink to your happiness--a toast you English people call it."

She watched him narrowly, and saw that he did not drink, merely held the cup to his lips, and then slowly let it down to the level of his breast, carefully wiping his lips before holding out the cup to her.

"Stay," he cried, "I must fill it up again;" and taking the native bottle, his hand shook a good deal as he refilled the cup. "Your presence agitates me," he said. "See how my hand trembles. It is all for love--the love you taught me to feel."

Helen trembled with horror; and never had her heart reproached her in all her past more bitterly than at this moment. It was retribution, and she felt it cruelly.

"There," he cried, touching the edge of the cup again with his lips, "drink from that, Helen, my love, my wife, as an earnest of the kisses you press upon these lips, for I will not force them from you; they shall come full and freely as your gifts. Forced kisses are from slaves, and I can command them when I will! I want your warm, true, freely-given English love, and in return I will wors.h.i.+p you, and make you a queen as great as your own, far over the seas. There, take the cup and drink. Yes, you must--you shall drink. No, no," he cried, laughing in a harsh, strange way, "I do not command, I beg and pray."

He had risen now, and was bending down over her with the wine, and in her horror and fear of his presence she was ready to shriek aloud. His hand grasped her arm as he pressed the cup towards her. It was with no l.u.s.tful caress, but with a spasmodic, furious grasp to save himself from falling as the cup dropped from his hand, making a great patch upon the soft brown matting that was spread with sweets and fruit.

He recovered himself though directly, and stood upright, but kept on muttering angrily and gazing about him in a wild, excited way. His eyes looked fixed and dilated, while his hands were extended as if feeling about for something to grasp.

Helen gazed at him in horror, and she shrank more and more away as Murad kept on muttering in the Malay tongue before sinking down heavily and then letting his head drop as if it were much too heavy to bear.

She stared, believing it to be some _ruse_, but a heavy, stertorous breathing set in, and the Rajah sank lower and lower, evidently in a heavy stupor, while now all became confused and misty before Helen's eyes; and as, like a flash, the thought pa.s.sed through her brain that after all the water that she had tasted had been drugged, a deathly sickness overcame her, and she sank back insensible upon the mats.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER SEVEN.

LIGHT IN DARKNESS.

When Helen Perowne came to her senses it was some minutes before she could realise what had taken place, and she lay there motionless, staring up at the bamboo and palm-leaf roof that looked dim, and weird, and strange, as she saw it softly illumined by the rays of the lamp; while there above her was one soft round patch of light glowing amidst the darkness, and reminding her of the nights when she had been ill at Miss Twettenhams', and a night-light had been set to burn in a shade.

"Where am I?" she asked herself: for the past seemed gone.

Then all at once she seemed to hear, coming, as it were, out of the mental mist wherein she wandered, a dull, low, long-drawn breathing, and she rose to her elbow, to see there, lying with his face turned to the lamp, and not two yards away, Murad, apparently watching her, for his eyes were widely opened and staring in her direction.

Her heart began to throb violently, and, cautiously watchful, she rose slowly to her knees, supporting herself with her hands, as she felt how horror-stricken and weak she was; and it was only by a great effort that she found herself able to stand.

She was glad, however, to sit down again, to allow the sensation of giddiness that oppressed her to pa.s.s away. And now she fully realised the fact that the staring eyes before her, in which the light of the lamp was strangely reflected, were fixed and blind to what pa.s.sed around, their owner being plunged in a deep stupor-like sleep.

It was some time before she could really believe this to be a fact; but when she did realise her position it gave her courage; while, as she tried to recall what had pa.s.sed, she wondered how it had all come about.

Her common-sense soon told her that she had fainted entirely from fright, and that her suspicion concerning the water being drugged was ill-founded; while, on the other hand, as she gazed at Murad, her ideas gathered force, and she fully believed that her enemy had fallen into the trap that he had laid for his victim, and she wondered how long it would be before he awoke.

Helen's suspicions were correct. Murad had had some little experience in the management and usage of the vegetable narcotics of the jungle, and believing from old experiments he had made that he could drink with impunity the clear wine from the top of the prepared vessel, he had, to disarm her suspicions partaken thereof, leaving the strong, thick portion for his victim, taking care to agitate it at the time of pouring out.

He was, however, wrong, for the narcotic he had used was a particularly strong preparation, and the clear portion at the top of the bottle contained ample quant.i.ty of the poison to overcome him in the fancied moment of his triumph, leaving him p.r.o.ne at his prisoner's feet.

The dizziness pa.s.sed off; but for a few minutes the girl felt that she dared not stir for fear that at the least motion on her part her persecutor might awaken; and in this spirit she remained for some time, listening to the heavy breathing, and watching intently, as if fascinated by the dark eyes that at times seemed gazing into hers.

At last, however, she gained a little more courage, and cautiously made a step or two towards the door.

Then she paused and listened, and gazed at the prostrate figure, fancying that she had detected some slight movement; but satisfying herself at last that Murad still slept, she went once more, step by step, her heart palpitating wildly, till she reached the door, when a louder inspiration than usual made her turn sick with dread, and she had to cling to the framework to keep from falling.

Finding, however, that Murad did not stir, she once more gained courage; and rousing herself for the effort, she drew aside the heavy matting curtain with cautious hand, tried the fastening of the door--growing more bold moment by moment as she strove to get it open--but all in vain. The handle would not stir, and it seemed to her that there must be a great bar across on the outside, making prisoners of both her and her captor.

It was not until the utter hopelessness of her effort dawned upon her that she gave up her task and turned to the window.

Here her efforts were equally vain, for the grill was formed of stout bamboos secured with ratan cane, bound at the intersections, and so strong, that without a powerful edge-tool even a stout-hearted man might well have given up the task in despair.

Helen's delicate fingers, then, failed even to shake the bars; and at last, thrusting her arms through, she clasped her hands on the other side, and pressed her fevered brow to one of the openings that the soft night air might breathe upon it, and there she remained, alternately praying for help and listening to the Rajah's heavy, stertorous breath.

A couple of hours must have pa.s.sed like this, and the silence was terrible. There was at times the hoa.r.s.e roar of a tiger in the jungle, and the Rajah now and then muttered some words in his own tongue; otherwise there was the regular breathing of the sleeper, and the dull thud--thud, thud--thud of the prisoner's palpitating heart.

All at once there was a sharp exclamation and an uneasy movement which sent Helen's blood bounding through her veins.

The time of peril had arrived then; and she thrust her arms more fully through the bamboo trellis, meaning to enlace her fingers firmly, and cling there to the last.

It was a strong position which she had accidentally taken, and it now dawned upon her that it would need a tremendous effort to dislodge her from her hold.

Here, then, she clung as the uneasy movement continued, and it was not for some time that she dared turn her head to look where, to her great relief, she found that Murad had only slightly changed his position, and was still sleeping heavily.

How long would this last, she asked herself, with a s.h.i.+ver of fear; and then, in the reaction after the horror of a few minutes before, when she fancied her enemy was waking, she became weak--so weak that she sobbed hysterically, and almost hung from the bars of the window, for her legs refused to bear her up.

But she recovered after awhile, and feeling stronger, satisfied herself that Murad was still sleeping heavily, and then stood gazing out at the darkness of the night.

The dense foliage made it seem blacker; but here and there the rays of a star penetrated to where she was, and seemed like a promise of hope.

The faint perfume of flower and leaf made the soft, moist air odorous and sweet, and there was a delicious coolness that seemed to give strength to her enervated frame.

Every now and then came the ominous cry of some wandering tiger following the narrow jungle paths, and at times there were strange, mysterious sounds, evidently arising from the forest depths, and to which she could give no name, but which sent a shudder through her frame, as she thought that ere long she might be wandering there in the darkness, running the risk of an attack from one or other of the fierce beasts that haunted these shades.

But as these thoughts crossed her mind, she glanced back at where the sleeping figure of Murad lay full in the light of the lamp, and she felt that she would sooner risk the danger to be incurred by wandering through the jungle than remain another hour beneath that roof.

It must, from the time that seemed to have elapsed, have been near morning when, as she stood there with her weary head pressed against the bamboo barn, the cry of a tiger sounded very close at hand, followed a few minutes later by a low, rustling noise, as if the creature were forcing its way through the dense undergrowth towards the house.