"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 her the two midshipmen who had rescued her, and
she at once went up to them, and, slipping her hands into theirs,