all groups to wander through the wonderful city,
having arranged to meet again at midnight.

The man in whose house we had found shelter was named Goliba, a staunch
friend of Omar's, although one of the royal councillors. As we sat
together this old man with long flowing white beard, keen aquiline
features and black eyes that age had not dimmed, explained facts that
amazed us. He told us that Kouaga, a favourite of the Naya, had been
approached secretly by her as to the advisability of Omar's
assassination. The old councillor had actually overheard this dastardly
plot formed by the queen against her son, for she feared that owing to
the harshness of her rule popular opinion might be diverted in his
favour, and that she might be overthrown, and he set upon the Emerald
Throne in her stead. The Naya had regretted sending Omar away for safety,
so giving Kouaga a large sum of money, she ordered him to proceed to
England and assassinate the heir. He left, and apparently on his way
conceived the idea that he might, with considerable advantage, play a
double game. Samory, whose secret agent in Mo he was, intended, he knew,
to lead a great expedition against the unapproachable country, its
principal object being to secure the vast treasures known to be concealed
within the City in the Clouds. As Omar alone knew its secret hiding-place
it occurred to Kouaga to convey him to the stronghold of the Mohammedan
chief before assassinating him, and obtain from him the whereabouts of
the great collection of gold and gems. The Naya had ordered that her son
should be killed secretly in England, but this cowardly crime was averted
by Kouaga's cupidity, and we had therefore been enticed to the Arab
sheikh's headquarters. The object of both men being thwarted by Omar's
refusal to divulge the secret, we had been sold into slavery and
consigned as human sacrifices before King Prempeh.

"We'll be even yet with that scoundrel and traitor, Kouaga," Omar said,
turning to me when Goliba had finished.

"If the command be given every man in Mo would go forth against Samory's
accursed hordes," Goliba declared with emphasis, removing the mouthpiece
of his long pipe from his lips. "But how dost thou intend now to act?" he
asked Omar. "Remember thou art banished until the Naya's death. Let us
hope that Zomara will not spare her long to tyrannize over our land and
to plot against thy life," he added in a half whisper.

Omar started in surprise. This man