“Ashah,” she said, “does not go forth except to kill.” “And he came out here into the West to kill,” hissed Ajeeb, his great black eyes sparkling. “Me?” “Perhaps.” The girl was now, indeed, startled. Ashah, as she said, never went forth except to do murder. He was the executioner at the temple of the great Jobu. Hundreds, probably thousands, had met death at his hands. His very name was mentioned in Gondar with bated breath, and women frightened refractory children by naming him. “Why should I die?” asked Zulima, and she cowered beneath her uncle’s fierce glance. “Because you may have been the American’s accomplice.” “I do not understand.” “Do you still adore Jobu?” “That was the faith of my fathers, and it shall always be mine.” The girl spoke in a spirit of religious fervor. Ajeeb looked hard at her, believing she might be shamming. He satisfied himself that Zulima was sincere. “Don’t you know that this American has desecrated our god?” She gave a great start. “That cannot be.” “It is true; and that is the principal reason I had for crossing the great seas.” “Uncle, you must be wrong.” “The wretch who was on guard at the time,” said Ajeeb, his cheeks aflame with anger, “confessed all before he died.” “What did he confess?” “That he admitted the American, and allowed him to insult the great Jobu.” “In what manner?” “He removed his eye.” “The green diamond?” cried Zulima, in great terror. “Yes; and more than that, he carried it away with him.” “What! Stole Jobu’s eye?” “’Tis true.” Zulima trembled with nervous excitement. “Is your charge a just one?” “Aye.” “Perhaps the eye was taken by one of the American’s servants?” “No.” “But it may be so. Have you seen him?” questioned Zulima. “Yes.” “What did he say?” “As I expected, he lied to me.” “He denied taking the stone?” “Yes; and he became pale as death and trembled all over.” Zulima believed her uncle was right in the premises. She did love Henry Stolburst. Far better did she love Jobu. Then, besides, she feared the god of her people. “Ajeeb, I will return home.” “Yes, when our work is done.” “What have we to do?” “I shall ask very little of you.” “Tell me what it is.” “Does the American come here often?” asked Ajeeb. “About once a week.” “Will he be here to-day?” “No; he was here yesterday.” “He would come to-night if you were to send for him?” “True.” “Then that is all I request you to do.” “Thy will shall be done,” said Zulima, and her heart was stricken with terror. CHAPTER III. STOLBURST’S VISITOR. Burt Cromwell had a good deal of hesitation about taking charge of Stolburst’s affair. He bluntly asked the lecturer if he could furnish references. This caused the latter displeasure. Burt cared nothing for that. “Do you know the firm of Fremont & Cole?” Stolburst asked. “The bankers?” “Yes.” “I am well acquainted there, having done business for the firm.”