“What would that matter even it if were true, white man, since she wants you?”

“I am thinking, friend, that there is someone else she will want when she hears of this.  How do you suppose that you will die to-morrow?  Not so easily as you hope, perhaps.”

The Mungana’s eyes seemed to sink into his head, and his face to sicken with terror.  That shaft had gone home.

“Suppose I make a bargain with you,” went on Alan slowly.  “Supposing I say:  ’Mungana, show me the way out of this place, as you can, now at once.  Or if you prefer it, refuse and be given up to the Asika?’ Come, you are not too mad to understand.  Answer—­and quickly.”

“Would you kill me afterwards?” he asked.

“Not I. Why should I wish to kill you?  You can come with us and go where you will.  Or you can stay here and die as the Asika directs.”

“I cannot believe you, white man.  It is not possible that you should wish to run away from so much love and glory, or to spare one who would have slain you.  Also it would be difficult to get you out of Bonsa-town.”

“Jeekie,” said Alan, “this fellow is mad after all, I think you had better go to the door and shout for the priests.”

“No, no, lord,” begged the wretched creature, “I will trust you; I will try, though it is you who must be mad.”

“Very good.  Stand over him, Jeekie, while I put on my things and, yes, give me that mask.  If he stirs, kill him at once.”

So Alan made himself ready.  Then he mounted guard over the Mungana, as did Jeekie, although he shook his head over their prospect of escape.

“No go,” he muttered, “no go!  If we get past priests, Asika catch us with her magic.  When I bolt with your reverend uncle last time, Little Bonsa arrange business because she go abroad fetch you.  Now likely as not she bowl you out, and then good-bye Jeekie.”

Alan sternly bade him be quiet and stop behind if he did not wish to come.

“No, no, Major,” he answered, “I come all right.  Asika very prejudiced beggar, and if she find me here alone—­oh my!  Better die double after all, Two’s company, Major.  Now, all ready, March!” and he gave the unfortunate Mungana a fearful kick as a hint to proceed.

So utterly crushed was the poor wretch that even this insult did not stir him to resentment.

“Follow me, white man,” he said, “and if you desire to live, be silent.  Throw your cloaks about your heads.”

They did so, and holding their revolvers in their right hands, glided after the Mungana.  In the corner of the big room they came to a little stair.  How it opened in that place where no stair had been, they could not see or even guess, for it was too dark, only now they knew the means by which the Asika had been able to visit them at night.