show, for it was of the
regular military scarlet, and was neither that of field-marshal,
dragoon, nor hussar, but a combination of all three, frogged, roped, and
embroidered in gold, and furnished with a magnificent pair of twisted
epaulets. Across the breast was a gorgeous belt, one mass of gold
ornamentation, while the sword-belt and slings were similarly encrusted,
and the sabre and sheath--carefully placed between his legs, so that it
could be seen to the best advantage--was a splendid specimen of the
goldsmiths' and sword-cutlers' art, and would have been greatly admired
in a museum. To complete the effect, the rajah wore an Astrakan busby,
surmounted by a tall scarlet egret-plume, similar to that worn by a
horse-artillery officer of the British army, the cap being corded,
starred, and held in place by a golden chain cheek-strap.

The effect ought to have been most striking, and so it was in one way;
but it was spoiled by the presence of a jetty-black Malay attendant,
dressed in an ordinary dark paletot and military-looking cap, holding
over the rajah's head a white sun umbrella of common cotton, and the
fact patent to any Englishman, that the uniform must have been ordered
without the customary visit to the tailor, the result destroying
everything with the horribly striking truth that it did not fit!

Ned bit his tongue hard, and gazed to right and left at the swarthy
courtiers of the monarch, six of whom were squatted down in the front
row, some in little military caps, others in brilliant kerchiefs tied
turban fashion about their heads, and all wearing brilliant silken
sarongs. These were the rajah's sword-bearers, and each held by the
ornamental sheath a kris or parang of singular workmanship, with the
hilt resting against the right shoulder. The rest of the rajah's people
were picturesquely arranged, and in their native dress looked to a man
far better than their ruler, who was the incongruous spot in the group,
which was impressive enough to an English lad, with its lurid
fierce-looking faces and dark oily eyes peering from the mass of yellow
and scarlet, while everywhere, though with the hilt covered by the folds
of the sarong, could be made out the fact that each man carried at his
waist a deadly-looking kris.

All this was seen at a glance as they advanced, and Ned had thoroughly
crushed down the desire to laugh at the dark potentate, when his uncle
nearly made him explode by whispering: "Make your