g,
fantastic mob, the breakdown of courage, of love, of everything that
is noble under the pressure of primaeval instinct, which has but one
song--Save your life. Lastly, imagine this coward saved, dwelling within
a few miles of the son whom he had deserted, and yet utterly unable to
rescue or even to communicate with him because of the poltroonery of
those among whom he had refuged."

"Well," grunted Higgs, "I have imagined all that high-faluting lot. What
of it? If you mean that you are to blame, I don't agree with you.
You wouldn't have helped your son by getting your own throat cut, and
perhaps his also."

"I don't know," I answered. "I have brooded over the thing so long that
it seems to me that I have disgraced myself. Well, there came a chance,
and I took it. This lady, Walda Nagasta, or Maqueda, who, I think,
had also brooded over things, made me an offer--I fancy without the
knowledge or consent of her Council. 'Help me,' she said, 'and I will
help you. Save my people, and I will try to save your son. I can pay for
your services and those of any whom you may bring with you.'

"I answered that it was hopeless, as no one would believe the tale,
whereon she drew from her finger the throne-ring or State signet which
you have in your pocket, Higgs, saying: 'My mothers have worn this since
the days of Maqueda, Queen of Sheba. If there are learned men among your
people they will read her name upon it and know that I speak no lie.
Take it as a token, and take also enough of our gold to buy the stuffs
whereof you speak, which hide fires that can throw mountains skyward,
and the services of skilled and trusty men who are masters of the stuff,
two or three of them only, for more cannot be transported across the
desert, and come back to save your son and me.' That's all the story,
Higgs. Will you take the business on, or shall I try elsewhere? You must
make up your mind, because I have no time to lose, if I am to get into
Mur again before the rains."

"Got any of that gold you spoke of about you?" asked the Professor.

I drew a skin bag from the pocket of my coat, and poured some out upon
the table, which he examined carefully.

"Ring money," he said presently, "might be Anglo-Saxon, might be
anything; date absolutely uncertain, but from its appearance I should
say slightly alloyed with silver; yes, there is a bit which has
oxydized--undoubtedly old, that."

Then he produced the signet from his pocket, and examined