“O generous Chief! this camel I shall take from thine herd when I go forth, but this day I shall pay thee silver of the white men of Kano in token of good faith. Anon, when thou hast feasted of the evening meal, if it be well advised, I shall come to thy door with bag of silver and gift of cloth.” And Bezzou answered, with greed in his eyes: “It is well, friend. Come, and thou shalt be welcomed.” Wherefore, in due time, when the shades of night had fallen, Rali limped to the door of the encampment of Bezzou, and was admitted. The chief and two old councillors awaited him. They had been deep in evil plans, for Bezzou had already made up his mind that the harmless travellers, with their camels, and merchandise, and bags of silver, should never leave the camp alive. [Illustration: SPELLBOUND IN THE GRIP OF LIMITLESS SILENCE] Rali made his generous gift of cloth to the chief, and, from a bag concealed in the folds of his garment, counted out the dole of silver which was the price of the camel he had purchased, the while he discussed, in voice pitched more high than usual, the small incidents of the journey and the hardships which he and Yofa had experienced by the way. He was fencing to disarm suspicion, fencing for time; hopeful that Kahena was near—even that she might catch the sound of his voice. In vain, when unobserved, his keen eyes roved over the hut in search of a clue. Presently a woman entered from the rear bringing some wood for the fire that smouldered between stones on the floor. She was an Ehaggaran native, and, beyond one brief glance at her, Rali appeared indifferent to her presence. Yet, if one could have guessed it, his downcast eyes missed nothing. But vain was his covert inspection; her person revealed no clue of Kahena’s immediate presence; and his heart sank within him as she retired from the hut, for he had hoped that it might be otherwise. Conversation had lagged, and Rali had risen to depart to his rest, when, with the curiosity of her sex, the woman re-entered on pretext of mending the fire, in reality to hear the parting words that passed between the stranger and her people. She was in the act of adding fuel to the fire, when Rali suddenly stumbled and emitted a smothered groan, as if from the pain of his wound. “Brother! thou art unfit to travel further for the present,” exclaimed Bezzou, supporting him, and inwardly intent on his evil schemes. “Rest in this camp, where thou art welcome, until thou hast recovered.” And, as he limped off to join Yofa in rest, Rali answered: “I thank thee, O great and generous Chief! Gladly will I stay here for a few days until this sickness of the evil one has passed.”