arms, legs, and multi-coloured garments, from whence issued an occasional
snore or a subdued groan of some uneasy sleeper. An European lamp with a
green shade standing on the table made all this indistinctly visible to
Dain.

"You are welcome to your rest here," said Babalatchi, looking at Dain
interrogatively.

"I must speak to the Rajah at once," answered Dain.

Babalatchi made a gesture of assent, and, turning to the brass gong
suspended under the arm-rack, struck two sharp blows.

The ear-splitting din woke up the guard. The snores ceased; outstretched
legs were drawn in; the whole heap moved, and slowly resolved itself into
individual forms, with much yawning and rubbing of sleepy eyes; behind
the curtains there was a burst of feminine chatter; then the bass voice
of Lakamba was heard.

"Is that the Arab trader?"

"No, Tuan," answered Babalatchi; "Dain has returned at last. He is here
for an important talk, bitcharra--if you mercifully consent."

Evidently Lakamba's mercy went so far--for in a short while he came out
from behind the curtain--but it did not go to the length of inducing him
to make an extensive toilet. A short red sarong tightened hastily round
his hips was his only garment. The merciful ruler of Sambir looked
sleepy and rather sulky. He sat in the arm-chair, his knees well apart,
his elbows on the arm-rests, his chin on his breast, breathing heavily