to be saved," the man replied. "Me tell him she come up to see
him soon; the doctor say she no hurt."

Two minutes later the doctor reappeared, carrying the child in his arms.
She looked round fearlessly at the white faces until her eye fell upon
her father, when she slipped out of the doctor's arms like an eel and
ran to him. The grim features of the Malay lit up with a pleasant smile
as he held out his right hand to her. She was a strange little figure,
for the doctor had not waited to obtain any suitable garments for her,
but had wrapped her up in one of the signal flags, which the child
herself had wound round her waist and over her shoulder like a native
sarong.

"You tell him, Soh Hay, that he must not talk to her," the doctor said.
"If he keeps quiet, he will get well in short time: if he talk, he ill
many days; but I will let him say a few words to her now."

The Malay's eyes passed over the group of officers and rested on the
two midshipmen, whose wet clothes showed that they were the officers who
had, as the interpreter had told him, dived in and rescued the child. He
said something to the interpreter.

"Malay man want to speak to you, young gentlemen," the man said; "he
wish to thank you."

"Oh, tell him there is nothing to thank us for," Harry said hastily; "it
was nothing more than taking a bath."

"Yes, officer, but he wishes to speak to you."

Somewhat reluctantly, the two lads approached the side of the injured
man; he took each of them by the hand, and, as he did so, said something
which Soh Hay interpreted:

"The chief says that you have given him back what he loved best in the
world, and that his life is yours whenever it may be of use to you; he
may be of service to you, gentlemen, should you ever go up the river--a
Malay never forgives an injury or forgets a service."

"Tell him we are very glad to have brought his little girl out of the
water," Harry said, "and that if we ever go up the river, we will pay
him a visit."

The chief was now laid in a cot which was swung from the stanchions of
the awning, while the little girl was carried away by the doctor, who
laid her in a berth, gave her a cup of tea, which she drank obediently
to his orders, but evidently regarded as being extremely nasty, and she
was then told through the interpreter to go to sleep until her sarong
was dried. A couple of hours later she was on deck again in her
native garb and ornaments. The interpreter pointed out to