In my sleep a curious dream came to me, which after all was not wonderful, seeing how my mind was occupied.

I dreamed that Kaneke spoke to me, though I could not see him, but distinctly I heard, or seemed to hear, his voice saying:

“Follow the woman. Do what the woman tells you, and you will save me.”

Twice I heard this, and then I do not know how long afterwards, I woke up, or rather was awakened by Hans setting some food upon the camp table near the tent. On going out I saw that it was night, for the full moon was just rising and already giving so clear a light in a cloudless sky, that I could see to eat without the aid of a lamp.

“Hans,” I said presently, “what did Kaneke mean when he talked of a great sickness that was about to smite the town?”

“The Baas observes little,” answered Hans. “Did he notice nothing among the people of that caravan which took away the ivory?”

“Yes, I noticed that they were a dirty lot and smelt so much that I kept clear of them.”

“If the Baas had come a little closer, he would have seen that two or three of them had pimples coming all over their faces.”

“Small-pox?” I suggested.

“Yes, Baas, small-pox, for I have seen it before. Also, they had been mixing with the people of the town who have not had small-pox for many years, for Kaneke kept it away by his charms, or stopped it when it broke out. Baas, this time he did not keep it away, and quite a number of the townspeople, as I heard this morning, are feeling bad, with sore throats and headaches, Baas. Kaneke knew all this as well as I do and that is why he talked about a pestilence. It is easy to prophesy when one knows, Baas.”

“Is it easy to send dreams, Hans?” I asked; then before he could answer I told him of the words I had seemed to hear in my sleep.

For a moment I caught sight of a look of astonishment upon Hans’ wrinkled and impassive countenance. Then he answered in an unconcerned fashion:

“I dare say, Baas, if one knows how. Or perhaps Kaneke sent no dream. Perhaps the Baas heard me and the woman talking together, for she is here and waiting to see the Baas after he has eaten.”

CHAPTER 4 – White-Mouse

“A woman!” I said, springing up. “What woman?”

“Kaneke’s jealous wife who likes me so much, she whom they call White-Mouse because she is so quick and silent, I suppose. She has a plan to save that bull of a man, just as the dream said, or you overheard.”

“Then she must be fond of him after all, Hans.”

“I suppose so, Baas. Or perhaps she thinks she will get him back again now, because some other woman, of whom she is jealous, has got small-pox, of which she hopes that she will die, or become very ugly. At least that is her tale, Baas.”

“I will see her at once,” I said.

“Best eat your supper first, Baas; it is always wise to keep women waiting a while, for that makes them think more of you.”

Knowing that Hans always had a reason for what he said, even when he seemed to be talking the most arrant nonsense, I took his advice.

When I had finished my food he led me to a patch of bush that grew round a pool at the foot of the slope about two hundred yards from the camp. We entered and presently from beneath a tree a little woman glided out so silently that she might have been a ghost, and stood still with the moonlight falling on her white robes. She threw back a hood that covered her head, revealing her face, which was refined and in its way very pretty; also so fair for an Arab that I thought she must have European blood in her. She looked at me a little while, searching my face with her dark, appealing eyes, then suddenly threw herself on her knees, took my hand, and kissed it.

“That will do,” I said, lifting her up. “What do you want with me?”

“Lord,” she said in Arabic, speaking in a low, impassioned voice, “I am that slave of Kaneke whom here they call White-Mouse, though elsewhere I have another name. Although he has treated me badly, for he who loves a Shadow cares for no woman, his spell is still upon me. Therefore I would pray you to save him if you can.”

“Me!”

“Yes, Lord, you.” Then as I said nothing she went on quickly, “I know that you white men do not work without pay, and I have nothing to give you, except myself. I will be a good servant to you and Kaneke will not mind. He has told me to go where I will.”

“Don’t be frightened, Baas,” whispered Hans into my ear in Dutch. “When she says you—she must mean me.”

I hit him in the middle with the point of my elbow, which stopped his breath. Then I said:

“Set out your plan, White-Mouse, if you have one. But please understand that I do not want you as a servant.”

“Then you can drive me away, Lord, for if you do my will, your slave I shall be till death. Only one thing do I ask, that you do not give me to that little yellow monkey, or to either of your hunters.”

“How well she acts!” grunted the unconquered Hans behind me.

“The plan, the plan,” I said.

“Lord, it is this: there is a path up the cliff on the crest of which is the house of Kaneke, wherein he lies bound awaiting death at the rising of the morrow’s sun. It is known to few; indeed only to Kaneke and myself. I will lead you with your two hunters and this yellow one up that path and into Kaneke’s house. There, if it be needful, you can deal with those who guard him—there are but three of them, for the rest watch without the fence—and get him away down the cliff.”

“This is nonsense,” I said.