Thus weeks lengthened into months. He had wished me to keep from the people the great loss sustained by the robbery from the Treasure-house, believing that in the circumstances silence was best, and I had not breathed a word to a soul, not even to Kona or Goliba. The city had resumed its old look of prosperity, its markets were crowded daily, and its populace were content in the knowledge that under the reformed _régime_ they were free. Although once every week, Omar, with his court, descended to the Temple of Zomara, and there adored the Crocodile-god, human sacrifices had been discontinued, and the worship of the giant idol was devoid of those revolting practices introduced by the Naya. Of the latter, no tidings had been gleaned. Although every effort had been made to trace her, she had disappeared. Of the treasure of the Sanoms, too, nothing had been heard. How it had been conveyed out of Mo remained an inscrutable mystery. I confess to being astonished that Omar seldom, if ever, spoke of either of these matters, which had at first so seriously agitated him. Whether he had relinquished all thought of recovering the jewels collected by his ancestors, or whether he was endeavouring to formulate some plan of action I knew not, yet his unwillingness to speak of them was, to say the least, noteworthy. "Niaro has to-day returned from the gate of Mo," I observed one evening when we were sitting alone together in one of the smaller courts, the night air stirred by the distant sound of stringed instruments and the thumping of Moorish tam-tams. "He has sent messengers by the Way of the Thousand Steps far into the lands beyond, but no word have they been able to gather regarding the Naya." "She has escaped the mad vengeance of our people, who would have killed her," he said, calmly. "For that I am thankful." "You seem to have no desire that she should be captured," I said. "None. She has escaped. After all it is best." "But the treasure," I said, dropping my voice so that no eavesdropper might overhear. "Its hiding place, like the thief, is still unknown." "Yes," he answered. "Unknown at present, but ere long some discovery must be made. When it is, I anticipate it will be a startling one." Our conversation was interrupted at that moment by the approach of a slave who, bowing low until his brow touched our carpet, said: "One of thy servants, O Master, desireth to have speech with thee. He hath sped from afar upon the wings of haste and beareth tidings." "Of what?" cried Omar, starting up. "I know not, O Master. The name of thy servant who awaiteth audience with thee is Makhana, who cometh from beyond the great black water." "Makhana!" we both cried, and Omar ordered that he should be admitted immediately, and without ceremony. Then, turning to me, he explained that on ascending the throne he had sent a message to Makhana in London ordering him to return at once.