ealed to him unconsciously,
although he had never been taught to consider beauty, or even seek
it. He would have married her without a question, if she had been as
hideous as his sister, who was scarred with the small-pox. He would
never have complained if, according to Malayan custom, he had not
been permitted to have seen her until the marriage day. He must marry
some one, now that the Prince had gone to Johore, and his father had
given up all hope of seeing him a hadji; and besides, the captain of
the launch and the old punghulo, or chief, Anak's father, were fast
friends. The marriage meant little more to the man.

But to Anak,--once the Prince Mat had told her she was pretty, when
she had come down to the wharf to beg a small crocodile to bury
underneath her grandmother's bungalow to keep off white ants, and
her cheeks glowed yet under her brown skin at the remembrance. Noa
had never told her she was beautiful!

A featherless hen was scratching in the yellow sand at her feet, and a
brood of featherless chicks were following each cluck with an intensity
of interest that left them no time to watch the actions of the lovers.

"Why did you come?" she asked in the soft liquid accents of her people.

There was an eagerness in the question that suggested its own answer.

"To bring a message to the punghulo," he replied, not noticing the
coquetry of the look.

"Oh! then you are in haste. Why do you wait? My father is at the
canal."

"It is about you," he went on, his face glowing. "The Prince is coming
back, and we are to be married. My father, the captain, made bold
to ask his Excellency to let the Prince be present, and he granted
our prayer."

She turned away to hide her disappointment. It was the thought of
the honor that was his in the eyes of the province, and not that
he was to marry her, that set the lights dancing in his eyes! She
hated him then for his very love; it was so sure and confident in
its right to overlook hers in this petty attention from a mere boy,
who had once condescended to praise her girlish beauty.

"When is the Prince coming?" she questioned, ignoring his clumsy
attempt to take her hand.

"During the feast of Hari Raya Hadji," he replied, smiling.

She kicked some sand with her bare toes, amongst the garrulous
chickens.

"Tell me about the Prince."

Her mood had changed. Her eyes were wide open, and her face
all aglow. She was wondering if he would notice her above the
bridesm