None of the people spoke as we passed them, for the Mazitu are polite by nature; also it seemed to me that they regarded us with awe tempered by curiosity.  They only stared, and occasionally those of them who were soldiers saluted us by lifting their spears.  The huts into which we were introduced by Babemba, with whom we had grown very friendly, were good and clean.

Here all our belongings, including the guns which we had collected just before the slaves ran away, were placed in one of the huts over which a Mazitu mounted guard, the donkeys being tied to the fence at a little distance.  Outside this fence stood another armed Mazitu, also on guard.

“Are we prisoners here?” I asked of Babemba.

“The king watches over his guests,” he answered enigmatically.  “Have the white lords any message for the king whom I am summoned to see this night?”

“Yes,” I answered.  “Tell the king that we are the brethren of him who more than a year ago cut a swelling from his body, whom we have arranged to meet here.  I mean the white lord with a long beard who among you black people is called Dogeetah.”

Babemba started.  “You are the brethren of Dogeetah!  How comes it then that you never mentioned his name before, and when is he going to meet you here?  Know that Dogeetah is a great man among us, for with him alone of all men the king has made blood-brotherhood.  As the king is, so is Dogeetah among the Mazitu.”

“We never mentioned him because we do not talk about everything at once, Babemba.  As to when Dogeetah will meet us I am not sure; I am only sure that he is coming.”

“Yes, lord Macumazana, but when, when?  That is what the king will want to know and that is what you must tell him.  Lord,” he added, dropping his voice, “you are in danger here where you have many enemies, since it is not lawful for white men to enter this land.  If you would save your lives, be advised by me and be ready to tell the king to-morrow when Dogeetah, whom he loves, will appear here to vouch for you, and see that he does appear very soon and by the day you name.  Since otherwise when he comes, if come he does, he may not find you able to talk to him.  Now I, your friend, have spoken and the rest is with you.”

Then without another word he rose, slipped through the door of the hut and out by the gateway of the fence from which the sentry moved aside to let him pass.  I, too, rose from the stool on which I sat and danced about the hut in a perfect fury.

“Do you understand what that infernal (I am afraid I used a stronger word) old fool told me?” I exclaimed to Stephen.  “He says that we must be prepared to state exactly when that other infernal old fool, Brother John, will turn up at Beza Town, and that if we don’t we shall have our throats cut as indeed has already been arranged.”

“Rather awkward,” replied Stephen.  “There are no express trains to Beza, and if there were we couldn’t be sure that Brother John would take one of them.  I suppose there is a Brother John?” he added reflectively.  “To me he seems to be—­intimately connected with Mrs. Harris.”