ch a troop of elephants as
Rajah Suleiman, but I have got two beauties who would face any tiger in
the jungle, and my people could show you more stripes than his could.
But perhaps I am so simple at home that you would rather go and stay
with His Highness."

"Look here, Hamet," whispered Archie quickly; "you said that to me last
time, just as if I had slighted you."

"Beg pardon, old chap. I didn't mean it; but your people--I don't know
how it is--don't seem to take to me. I always feel as if they didn't
trust me, and I don't think that I shall care about coming here any
more."

"What!" cried Archie excitedly, as he found that he had to take his seat
at the table beside the young Rajah, whose face was beginning to assume
a lowering aspect, as he saw that the Major's original intentions had
been hurriedly set aside and the chair on the latter's right was
occupied by the Rajah Suleiman, that on his left by a keen,
sharp-looking gentleman who might have been met in one of the Parisian
_cafes_, so thoroughly out of place did he seem in a military mess-room
rather roughly erected in a station on the banks of a Malay jungle
river.

"What!" said Archie again, in a low tone; and he noted how his companion
was furtively watching the attention paid to his brother Rajah.

"I'll tell you presently," said the young Malay. "But who is that
gentleman?"

"That? Oh, he's a traveller. He's a French count."

"French count?" said his companion. "A great friend of Suleiman's,
isn't he?"

"Not that I know of."

"Yes, he is. So one of my people says."

"Oh?" said Archie.

"Yes; Suleiman met him when he went to Paris."

"You seem to know all about it," said Archie laughingly.

"Oh no; I _want_ to know everything, but there is so much--so much to
learn. I wish I had gone to Paris too."

"What! so as to get to know the French count?"

"Pish!--No, thank you; I don't take wine," he added quickly, as one of
the officers' servants was filling glasses.

"Won't you have a glass of hock?"

"No," was the quiet reply. "And I don't want to know the French count.
I don't like him."

"Why?"

"Because he is Suleiman's friend."

"That's saying you don't like Suleiman."

"No. But I don't like him, and he hates me."

"Why?"

"Because he likes my country."

"And I suppose you like his?"

"I? No. I have got plenty of land that my father left me. He sent
me--you know; I told you--to England."

"Yes, I know; to be