ons without it is in his or her possession."

"But you retain it," I said. "You, at least, are safe."

"Yes," he replied thoughtfully. "Yet if the Naya had intended to secure
the treasure for herself she would most certainly have taken this first
of all. It is one of the most historic and valuable ornaments of the
royal jewels of Mo, besides being one in which most superstition is
centred. In her flight she would entertain the bitterest ill-feeling
towards me and desire my rule to be brief. Therefore, she must have
stolen the necklet; she would have secured that, if nothing else."

I was compelled to agree with this view, especially as he added that one
of the most firm beliefs of the Sanoms had ever been that Zomara would
send vengeance most terrible upon any who removed the treasure from its
chests without the sanction of the people. No, it seemed evident that
some third person had been in possession of the secret. Who, we knew not,
but were determined to discover.

On returning to the palace I stood, as usual, beside the Emerald Throne
while its occupant gave audience to those who came to make obeisance and
offer congratulations. The Court of the Naba Omar was even more brilliant
than that of his mother had been, and at evening, under the bright
lights, was, indeed, a glittering assembly, where the gems worn by
officials and courtiers almost dazzled one's eyes by their profuseness.

Days passed--bright, peaceful days succeeding the brief period of
feverish excitement and deadly hatred. Mo had become herself again; her
people assured that an era of liberty and prosperity had recommenced, her
ruler leaving no effort unspared to act in the best interests of his
beloved nation. By day the great sunny courts of the palace, with the
bright flowers and fruit-laden vines, rang with the tramp of armed men
and tall, stately officials; by night the sounds of revelry, music and
dancing awakened the echoes of the great moon-lit colonnades, and was
wafted on the sweet-scented air afar beyond the grim, frowning outer
walls.

Yet the burden of kingship seemed to press heavily upon the young Naba.
Though wearing no diadem, his brow soon became furrowed, as if by its
weight, and his air was one of constant preoccupation. His change of
manner puzzled me. His mind appeared overshadowed by some gloomy
foreboding, the nature of which I could by no amount of cautious
questioning elicit. During each day he attended assiduously without