as nearly inarticulate
with fright, 'grace to the sky, it is you! Ah, what I have endured!
But you win, monsieur, you win; they fly, the laches. But listen,
monsieur -- I forget, it is no good; the Queen is to be murdered
tomorrow at the first light in the palace of Milosis; her guards
will leave their posts, and the priests are going to kill her.
Ah yes! they little thought it, but I was ensconced beneath
a banner, and I heard it all.'

'What?' I said, horror-struck; 'what do you mean?'

'What I say, monsieur; that devil of a Nasta he went last night
to settle the affair with the Archbishop [Agon]. The guard will
leave open the little gate leading from the great stair and go
away, and Nasta and Agon's priests will come in and kill her.
Themselves they would not kill her.'

'Come with me,' I said, and, shouting to the staff-officer next
to me to take over the command, I snatched his bridle and galloped
as hard as I could for the spot, between a quarter and half a
mile off, where I saw the royal pennon flying, and where I knew
that I should find Curtis if he were still alive. On we tore,
our horses clearing heaps of dead and dying men, and splashing
through pools of blood, on past the long broken lines of spearmen
to where, mounted on the white stallion Nyleptha had sent to him
as a parting gift, I saw Sir Henry's form towering above the
generals who surrounded him.

Just as we reached him the advance began again. A bloody cloth
was bound around his head, but I saw that his eye was as bright
and keen as ever. Beside him was old Umslopogaas, his axe red
with blood, but looking quite fresh and uninjured.

'What's wrong, Quatermain?' he shouted.

'Everything. There is a plot to murder the Queen tomorrow at
dawn. Alphonse here, who has just escaped from Sorais, has overheard
it all,' and I rapidly repeated to him what the Frenchman had
told me.

Curtis' face turned deadly pale and his jaw dropped.

'At dawn,' he gasped, 'and it is now sunset; it dawns before
four and we are nearly a hundred miles off -- nine hours at the
outside. What is to be done?'

An idea entered into my head. 'Is that horse of yours fresh?'
I said.

'Yes, I have only just got on to him -- when my last was killed,
and he has been fed.'

'So is mine. Get off him, and let Umslopogaas mount; he can
ride well. We will be at Milosis before dawn, or if we are not
-- well, we cannot help it. No, no; it is impossible for you
to lea