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Kona with drawn sword had gripped the man's throat with his long black fingers, when suddenly we heard a gasping cry: "Stay thine hand! Dost thou not recognize thy benefactor?" "Hold!" shouted Omar, the words causing him to turn and run back to where the pair were struggling. "Knowest thou not the voice? Why, it is Goliba!" And it was Goliba!
"This, then, is one of the horrible customs that Goliba told us had been introduced by my mother, the Great White Queen!" "Horrible!" I exclaimed. "That fearful cry will haunt me to my dying day." "Let us return," said Kona. "We have witnessed enough, O Master." "No," Omar answered. "Rather let us see for ourselves the true extent of these terrible rites.
But years afterwards a gaoler who had obtained the secret from his father, also a gaoler, but who was dead, imparted it to me on his death-bed in return for some good-will I had shown him. I believe therefore that I am the only person who has knowledge of the means by which to open it." "The knowledge hath, in any case, saved our lives, Goliba," Omar answered.
"I am ready to lead the people against the forces of malice and oppression at any moment Goliba commands," Omar answered. "No thought of fear shall arrest my footsteps or stay my hand." Times without number we discussed the situation in similar strain, until, on the eleventh day of our voluntary confinement we were startled by a low tapping on the door. Each held his breath.
Had it been Goliba he would have entered without any such formality. In silence, we remained listening. Again the tapping was repeated, louder than before. Drawing our knives ready to defend ourselves, believing it to be one of the Naya's gaolers, Kona went forward, unbolted the door and opening it a few inches, weapon in hand, peered out.
"There is some deep mystery underlying this, Scars," Omar said, when Kona had stalked away into the darkness, and Goliba had risen and crossed the moon-lit court in response to a message delivered by a black slave. "I am scarcely surprised at Kona's failure to capture the Naya; indeed, personally, I should only be too happy to know that she had got safely beyond the limits of Mo.
Yet ere we could realise the true state of affairs, we saw dozens of the royal soldiers scrambling down from the walls on every side, rifles flashed here and there, and within a few moments the place was in possession of the troops of the Naya. "We seek Omar, the prince, and his companions," cried a man in a shining golden breastplate, evidently an officer of high rank, striding up to Goliba.
I whispered in English to Omar, as we walked together along one of the narrow streets in the deep shadow so that we might not be detected. "I know not," my friend answered, with a heavy sigh. "If what Goliba says is true, and I fear it is, then our land is doomed." "The power of the cruel Naya must be broken, and you must reign and bring back to Mo her departing prosperity and happiness," I said.
At last, having received the warmest thanks from my old companion through many misfortunes and from the woman he loved, I turned and sought the sage Goliba, to whom I told the good news of his daughter's safety and betrothal to Omar.
Without light, and in air that was decidedly close and oppressive, we proceeded. At least we were safe from the howling mob, for since leaving the great cavern all was silence, and it was now evident from the confident manner in which Goliba went forward that he was assured of the way.
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