way from Singapore here, and, excepting what he has been told of England and her power, the rajah knows very little about our country, and laughs at my father as if he were telling him romances when he talks of our army and ships of war.”

“He must be awfully conceited, then.”

“He is,” said the girl laughing. “I believe he thinks he is the greatest monarch upon earth.”

“Then you are the only English people here?”

“Oh no. We have Mr and Mrs Braine and their son, and Mr and Mrs Greig.”

“Who are they?”

“Mr Braine is a gentleman papa recommended to the rajah. He wanted some one to advise him and help him to introduce English customs, and to drill his army. Mr Greig is a merchant who lives here to purchase the produce of the country to send down to Singapore. You will see them, I daresay, for they are sure to come in as soon as they know that you are here.”

“It all seems very funny. I thought we were coming into quite a wild place where there were elephants and tigers, and great snakes and birds that we could collect.”

“Well, it could not be much more wild,” said the girl, smiling. “Directly you get past our house the dense jungle begins. We are completely shut in by it, except in the front here by the river. Wild? You will hear the tigers as soon as it is dark.”

“But I shall not be here,” said Ned, laughing.

“I think you will,” said the girl, looking at him curiously.

“Oh no; my uncle has quite made up his mind about what he intends to do, and nothing can change him.”

“Indeed! We shall see. Here we are.”

They had been passing through the place with its houses dotted about in the most irregular fashion, just as the builders had felt disposed to plant them, and now came upon an attractive-looking bungalow similar in character to the others, and like them raised on bamboo piles seven or eight feet from the ground, but with numberless little additions such as would be made by an Englishman. Notably a high rustic fence enclosing a large garden planted liberally with tropic shrubs and flowers, and a broad flight of steps leading up to a great open verandah which ran nearly along the whole of the front, and over which the attap roof was brought to rest on clusters of bamboo formed into pillars, up which ran and twined in profuse growth passion-flowers and other creepers.

“What a delightful place!” cried Ned. “Why, it’s quite a treat to see a good garden. Look at the fruit!”

“Mamma is very proud of the garden, and—”

“Come along, squire,” said the doctor, from the head of the steps. “Welcome to the Fernery.”

Murray was already seated at a well-spread table, upon which a couple of Malayan women, in neat cotton sarongs woven into an attractive plaid, were placing plates and dishes, and they greeted the newcomers with a look of surprise and a smile.

“There, gentlemen,” said the doctor, “you could not have arrived at a more opportune time, but you must excuse all shortcomings. We keep up old English customs as well as we can, and can give you coffee and eggs. No fried bacon, squire,” he added laughingly to Ned. “You are where our genial useful old friend the pig is an abomination. Why, it’s five years since I’ve tasted a sausage, or a bit of ham. But we can give you a curry of which I am proud. Eh, my dear?”

“Mr Murray will let a hearty English welcome make up for anything lacking,” said the doctor’s lady. “He knows that we are in the wilderness.”

“A wilderness with bamboo chairs, a table, a clean cloth, glass, plate, napkins, and flowers and fruit,” cried Murray. “Why, my dear madam, you forget that we have been picnicking in a boat. There, don’t spoil your welcome by apologies!”

Then there was a busy interval during which the greatest justice was done to an excellent meal, and Ned was initiated into the mystery of sambals—tiny saucers of pickle-like and preserve preparations, popular amongst the Malays as appetisers, but quite needless in Ned’s case, for he was perfectly independent of anything of the kind, and after his curry and coffee, now the first chill of strangeness had passed, paid plenty of attention to the fruit pressed upon him by the doctor’s daughter. Now it was a deliciously-flavoured choice banana with a deep orange skin, now a mangosteen, and then a portion of a great durian, a scrap or two of which he ate with some reluctance.

“Hallo!” said the doctor after a glance at his daughter, “you are not getting on with your durian, sir. Pray take some more; it is our king among fruits.”

“I—I am afraid it is not a good one,” stammered Ned, looking rather red.

“Eh? not a good one?” cried the doctor, tasting a piece. “Delicious, just in perfect condition. Ah, you have to acquire that taste. Now then, the ladies will excuse us, and we’ll have a cigar here in the shade.”

He clapped his hands, and one of the Malay women brought a box of manillas.

“No, I don’t think I’ll smoke,” said Murray. “You will not think me rude, but if you will excuse us, and put us in the way of getting what we want, I should be grateful.”

“My dear sir,” said the doctor, “you must see our other English residents. They are only waiting to give us time to finish our meal, and really you cannot go as yet.”

“Indeed!” said Murray, smiling, and noticing that the ladies both looked serious.

“Well, you see,” said the doctor rather confusedly—“do pray light a cigar, I’ll set you an example—you see there is the rajah.”

Ned looked up sharply at the doctor, and then darted a look of intelligence at his daughter.

“What about him?” said Murray abruptly.

“Well, you see,” said the doctor, hesitatingly, “he might think—but you are going shooting and collecting, you say?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you ought to ask his permission.”

“What!” said Murray, laughing. “My dear sir, you talk as if this were a gentleman’s estate, and he kept gamekeepers.”

“Well, yes,” said the doctor, smiling; “it is so on a large scale.”

“How far does it extend? We will not begin shooting till we are quite beyond his patch.”

“How far?” said the doctor thoughtfully. “Ah, that is a difficult question to answer. It was hard to say before the late encounters with the Rajah of Padang; now the territory is more than doubled. I think you had better send in a request. Ah, here is Braine!”

“And Mrs Braine and Mr Greig,” added the doctor’s lady, rising from her chair.

This ended the conversation, just when Ned saw that his uncle was growing annoyed at the doctor’s opposition to his plans, and he glanced round to see that his neighbour was looking at him intently.

“I thought you would not be able to go away to-day,” she whispered, as she rose and went with her mother to meet the visitors at the foot of the steps, the doctor having made an apology and gone too.

“What did that young lady say to you, Ned?” said his uncle in a low tone.

“She thought there would be some difficulty in our going on to-day.”

“Oh, nonsense! These people lead an idle life, and they want every one they see to stop and play with them. I don’t want to be rude, but we are not going to dawdle about here; and as for this petty chief—all rubbish!”

At that moment a tall stern-looking man, in loose white clothes and a pith helmet, came up the steps. His face was darkened almost to the tint of a Malay’s, and he had a quick anxious look in his eyes, which, with his rather hollow cheeks, gave him the aspect of one who had lately been ill. He advanced with open hand.

“Glad to meet you, Mr Murray,” he said. “It is a pleasure to see a countryman.”

“That speech will do for me too,” said a rather harsh voice, and a keen-looking gentleman of about fifty, with his face deeply lined and a