sed to be the
rajah's executioner, took out a little handful of cotton wool from the
folds of his sarong, tore open the loose baju or cotton jacket his
victim wore, so as to lay bare the bronze skin upon his shoulder, and
placed the wool over it like a loose pad just within the collar-bone.

"Is he going to set fire to it and brand him?" thought Ned; but the next
moment he drew in his breath with a hiss, as if he suffered pain, for
the executioner whipped out, from its wooden sheath at his waist, a
short kris with a curved handle and a dull thin steel blade. This he
held with his left hand perpendicularly, with the point resting in the
centre of the cotton wool, and in the momentary pause which followed,
Ned saw that the culprit was gazing straight at him in a dull heavy way,
and that his lips were moving as he still ground the betel-nut between
his teeth.

It was but a momentary pause, and then, quick as lightning, the
executioner brought his right hand with a smart blow upon the curved
hilt of the kris, driving it perpendicularly into the victim's chest,
transfixing his heart, and as rapidly drew it forth, while the prisoner
fell back, without struggle or groan, splash into the river, where Ned
saw him rolled over by the rapid current dimly-seen there, for the mist
was heavy on the surface; but visible till there seemed to be a rush in
the water, the dead man was snatched under, and the mist slowly rolled
away, to leave the surface glittering in the morning sunshine, and
taking a glorious tint of blue from the clear morning sky.

Ned saw all this vividly, and then a mist gathered over everything
again, as he tottered rather than walked a few yards to where he could
throw one arm round a tall slim cocoa-nut tree, and hold on, for he felt
sick, and he knew that the mist now was only in his eyes.

But he saw the spearmen form up with military precision before and
behind the executioner, as he calmly thrust his little kris back in the
waist-folds of his sarong, and then the party marched off with their
spears glittering in the morning sun, and from somewhere in the jungle a
wild-fowl uttered his sharp short crow.

"Am I going to faint?" thought Ned; and then he started and turned
sharply round, for a voice said quickly: "Ah, my lad! You there?"

Ned saw that it was Mr Braine standing before him, looking at him
frowningly, and with an air of disgust.

"Yes; I came for a walk," stammered Ned, huskily.

"And you s