They had not much time given them for thought, the prahu being cleverly steered alongside a row of bamboo posts, upon which a kind of rough landing-stage had been made, and the captain advanced to his prisoners and bade them disembark.
"Certainly," said Hollins smiling. "Ask him where his chief is."
The captain pointed, and as he did so a stunted sickly-looking man, more quietly dressed than those around, detached himself from the crowd and came towards the prahu, followed by about a dozen attendants and guards, some bearing krises by the blade with the ornamental handles resting upon their shoulders, while spearmen closed up behind.
The party on leaving the prahu was followed also by a guard of spearmen, and as they neared the chief approaching from the crowd, the captain gave a peremptory order and the party stopped short. But to his anger and astonishment Hollins turned to his companion.
"Come on, lad," he said; "we're not going to be marched up as prisoners. We're visitors to his swarthy highness," and he strode on with his gun resting in the hollow of his arm.
"Beg pardon, sir," came from behind, in Jerry's voice; "aren't we to come too?"
"Yes, of course," cried Hollins. "Both of you. Come on."
"There, didn't I say so?" cried Jerry, apostrophising one of the spearmen, who checked his advance. "Don't you hear what the guv'nors say?"
Without a moment's hesitation the two servants made a rush forward and took their places behind their masters, who strode up at once to the group in front, the sultan looking puzzled and clapping his hand to his kris, while his guards levelled their spears.
"Never mind their skewers, lad," said Hollins; "come straight on, and offer to shake hands. Tell him we're English officers, and his men have brought us to see him. I'll do the bounce and show."