“The king speaks fairly, and seems intent upon his negotiations; but he is preparing secretly for war. An army is collecting on the Prah. I hear that twelve thousand men are ordered to assemble there.” “I have noticed,” Frank said, “that there have been fewer men about than usual during the last few days. What will happen to us, do you think?” The missionary shook his head. “No one can say,” he said. “It all depends upon the king's humor. I think, however, that he is more likely to keep us as hostages, and to obtain money for us at the end of the war, than to kill us. If all goes well with his army we are probably safe; but if the news comes of any defeat, he may in his rage order us to be executed.” “What do you think are the chances of defeat?” Frank asked. “We know not,” the missionary said; “but it seems probable that the Ashantis will turn the English out of the coast. The Fantis are of no use. They were a brave people once, and united might have made a successful resistance to the Ashantis; but you English have made women of them. You have forbidden them to fight among themselves, you have discouraged them in any attempts to raise armies, you have reduced the power of the chiefs, you have tried to turn them into a race of cultivators and traders instead of warriors, and you can expect no material aid from them now. They will melt away like snow before the Ashantis. The king's spies tell him that there are only a hundred and fifty black troops at Cape Coast. These are trained and led by Englishmen, but, after all, they are only negroes, no braver than the Ashantis. What chance have they of resisting an army nearly a hundred to one stronger than themselves?” “Is the fort at Cape Coast strong?” Frank asked. “Yes, against savages without cannon. Besides, the guns of the ships of war would cover it.” “Well,” Frank said, “if we can hold that, they will send out troops from England.” “They may do so,” the missionary asserted; “but what could white troops do in the fever haunted forests, which extend from Coomassie to the coast?” “They will manage somehow,” Frank replied confidently. “Besides, after all, as I hear that the great portion of Ashanti lying beyond this is plain and open country, the Ashantis themselves cannot be all accustomed to bush fighting, and will suffer from fever in the low, swamp land.” Three days later the king sent for Frank. “The English are not true,” he said angrily. “They promised the people of Elmina that they should be allowed to retain all their customs as under the Dutch. They have broken their word. They have forbidden the customs. The people of Elmina have written to me to ask me to deliver them. I am going to do so.”