another Java tobacco, an object
much-prized by the Malays, but he did not take them, only fixed his eyes
jealously upon their weapons, and longed to snatch them away, and in
some desperate action to calm the suffering he endured.
Every now and then he listened, fancying he could hear the distant sound
of firing, and he shuddered as he fancied that the massacre had already
begun. But he was soon compelled to own that it was all fancy, and
wearied out, he laid himself down again to try and scheme a way of
escape.
The day slowly advanced, and the heat became intense, in spite of the
shadow in which he lay. A few light gleams came in through thin places
in the roof, but they only seemed to make the room darker, for a couple
of the Malays had been busy stopping up a small hole or two near the
closed window. Now and then some busy fly or crawling beetle took his
attention, or a nimble lizard in chase of an insect, and he thought of
the native proverb, as he saw how patiently the lizard crept along after
its intended victim, and waited its time until with unerring certainty
it could make its stroke.
He told himself that he must take a lesson from the quiet little
reptile, and await his time.
And so the day wore on, every hour convincing him more and more of the
impossibility of escape, unless some change should take place in the
arrangements.
One gleam of hope came to him, and that was afforded by the restlessness
of his guard. They seemed to be expecting some one, and watch was
evidently kept for his arrival, but as the evening drew near there was
no change, and the hope that the expected messenger might have been
about to order them to convey him elsewhere--to a place perhaps
affording a better chance of escape, died away.
True, the hope had been mingled with a sense of dread, for he felt that
if a messenger had come he might have been bearer of an order to put him
to death. But no one arrived, the sun was sinking fast, and his agony
on the increase, for night was close at hand, with no prospect of his
being able to convey the ill news he had to his friends.
The heat had been terrible to him in his excited state, and the evening
breeze that now came whispering through the leaves seemed but little
better. The men in the next room had twice over brought him food and
water, and they were now busily preparing their dammar-torches, a couple
of which were soon burning brightly, sending a warm glow like a golde
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