denly half a dozen shots were fired as though the
guards were resisting the invaders.

It was a period of terrible suspense. The shouts increased, the firing
grew heavier, powder-smoke drifted into the prison; but just when they
expected to see their dungeon door torn open by a mad swarm of fanatics
the uproar suddenly ceased.

A full minute of silence followed, and then on the night air rose a howl
of triumph, so savage, so vindictive, that Guy and Melton shivered from
head to foot. For some reason the attack had been suddenly abandoned.
What that reason was they could only surmise.

The silence continued. The invaders had dispersed. Sleep was impossible,
and they passed the time in conversation until a streak of light,
flickering through the opening, showed that morning had come.

Food and drink were brought in. The prisoners ate sparingly. The shadow
of a great calamity was overhanging.

"I am just as sure," said Melton, "that something will shortly happen,
as I am that you and I are in Rao Khan's slave prison at Harar."

"Listen," answered Guy.

Footsteps approached. The door creaked and opened, and a man entered.
With a cry of wonder Guy and Melton sprang to their feet. The newcomer
was bronzed and burnt, he had light hair, a mustache and a soft blond
beard, but he wore trousers and a tunic of white linen.

The surprise was mutual. The stranger scanned them closely from head to
foot.

"Who are you?" cried Guy hoarsely. "Can it be possible that you are an
Englishman--an Englishman in Harar?"

The man paused a moment, and then said quietly: "I am a Greek. My name
is Canaris Mataplan. At present I am an interpreter to Rao Khan, the
Emir."

"But your English?" cried Melton. "It is perfect."

"I was a cafe-keeper at Cairo for seven years," replied the Greek. "I
learned English there."

An embarrassing pause now occurred. It was certain that the Greek was
the bearer of tidings from the Emir. No one dared speak. At last the
Greek said quietly: "You are truly unfortunate. Tell me how you came
here. I know that Zaila has fallen into the possession of Rao Khan's
emissaries. I know nothing else."

Guy briefly told the tale, and Canaris listened quietly.

"Fools!" he said. "The English will be in Zaila again in a month."

"And you?" rejoined Guy. "What brought you to Harar?"

"I left Cairo for Calcutta," said Canaris. "The steamer was lost off
Cape Guardafui; ten of us reached shore in a boat; the Somalis