ther he should fire and give the
alarm.

But the next moment he reasonably enough asked himself why he should do
so, for there was nothing alarming in the fact of a tiny sampan gliding
over the river. It might be only a fisherman on his way to some
favourite spot, or perhaps one of the Malays bound up the river, or
possibly after all a mere deception.

There seemed to be nothing to merit the alarm being raised, and he stood
watching once more the spot where the boat had disappeared. Still he
did not resume his march up and down, but recalled the night of the
attack, and began to consider how easy it would be for a crafty enemy to
land and take them by surprise some gloomy night. Dark-skinned, and
lithe of action as cats, they could easily surprise and kris the
sentries. In his own case, for instance, what would be easier than for
an enemy to lurk on the edge of the thick jungly patch, by which the
path ran, and there stab him as he passed?

"It would be very easy," he thought. "Yes; and if I stand here much
longer, I shall begin to think that I am doing so because I dare not
walk beside that dark piece of wood. Still I dare do it, and I will."

As if out of bravado, he immediately began to pace his allotted post
once more, and he had hardly gone half-way when a sharp sound upon his
left made him bring his piece down to the present, and wait with bayonet
fixed what he looked upon as a certain attack.

Again he hesitated about firing and giving the alarm, for fear of
incurring ridicule and perhaps reprimand. He knew in his heart that he
was nervous and excitable, being troubled lest any ill should befall the
occupants of the residency, and being in such an excited state made him
ready to imagine everything he saw, to mean danger.

So he stood there, ready to repel any attack made upon him, and as he
remained upon his guard the rustling noise increased, and he momentarily
expected to see the leaves parted and some dark figure rush out; but
still he was kept in suspense, for nothing appeared.

At last he came to the conclusion that it was some restless bird or
animal disturbed by his presence, and told himself that the noise made
was magnified by his own fancies; and, rather glad that he had not given
the alarm, he continued to march up and down, passing to and fro in
close proximity to a dark Malay, whose hand clasped a wavy, dull-bladed
kris, that the holder seemed waiting to thrust into his chest the moment