"That's sound sense everywhere," rejoined Hazon. "You can't get Holmes
here to see it, though. He's wearing out his soul-case wanting to break
away."

This was no more than the truth. Laurence, seated there, narrowly
watching his old comrades, was swift to notice that whereas these months
of captivity and suspense had left Hazon the same cool, saturnine,
philosophical being he had first known him, upon Holmes they had had
quite a different effect. There was a restless, eager nervousness about
the younger man; a sort of straining to break away even, as the more
seasoned adventurer had described it. The fact was, he was getting
desperately home-sick.

"I wish I had never had anything to do with this infernal business," he
now bursts forth petulantly. "I swear I'd give all we have made to be
back safe and snug in Johannesburg, with white faces around us,--even
though I were stony broke."

"Especially one 'white face,'" bantered Laurence. "Well, keep up your
form, Holmes. You may be back there yet, safe and sound, and not stony
broke either."

"No, no. There is a curse upon us, as I said all along. No good will
come to us through such gains. We shall never return--never."

And then Laurence looked across at Hazon, and the glance, done into
words, read: "What the mischief _is_ to be made of such a prize fool as
this?"

The night was spent in talking over past experiences, and making plans
for the future, as to which latter Hazon failed not to note, with faint
amusement, blended with complacency, that the disciple had, if anything,
surpassed his teacher. In other words, Laurence entered into such plans
with a luke-warmness which would have been astonishing to the
superficial judgment, but was not so to that of his listener.

Nondwana, the brother of the king, was seated among a group of his
followers in the gate as Laurence went forth the next morning to return
to his own quarters. This chief, though older than Tyisandhlu in years,
was not the son of the principal wife of their common father, wherefore
Tyisandhlu, who was, had, in accordance with native custom, succeeded.
There had been whisperings that Nondwana had attempted to oppose the
accession, and very nearly with success; but whether from motives of
policy or generosity, Tyisandhlu had foreborne to take his life. The
former motive may have counted, for Nondwana exercised a powerful
influence in the nation. In aspect, he was a tall, fine, handsome man,
wit