Now while all this was going on, with some kind of sixth sense I had noted a big man whose face was shrouded by a blanket thrown over his head, who very quietly had joined these drunken rioters, and vaguely wondered who he might be.

“I will not run,” I said slowly, “that I may be saved by the king.  Nay, I will die here, though some of you shall die first.  Go to the king, Goza, and tell him how his servants have served his guest,” and I lifted my pistol, waiting till the first stick touched me to put a bullet through the bully on the ground.

“There is no need,” said a deep voice that proceeded from the draped man of whom I have spoken, “for the king has come to see for himself.”

Then the blanket was thrown back, revealing Cetewayo grown fat and much aged since last I saw him, but undoubtedly Cetewayo.

“Bayete!” roared the mob in salute, while some of those who had been most active in the tumult tried to slip away.

“Let no man stir,” said Cetewayo, and they stood as though they were rooted to the ground, while I slipped my pistol back into my pocket.

“Who are you, White Man?” he asked, looking at me, “and what do you here?”

“The King should know Macumazahn,” I answered, lifting my hat, “whom Dingaan knew, whom Panda knew well, and whom the King knew before he was a king.”

“Yes, I know you,” he answered, “although since we spoke together you have shrunk like an oxhide in the sun, and time has stained your beard white.”

“And the King has grown fat like the ox on summer grass.  As for what I do here, did not the King send for me by Goza, and was I not brought like a baby in a blanket.”

“The last time we met,” he went on, taking no heed of my words, “was yonder at Nodwengu when the witch Mameena was tried for sorcery, she who made my brother mad and brought about the great battle, in which you fought for him with the Amawombe regiment.  Do you not remember how she kissed you, Macumazahn, and took poison between the kisses, and how before she grew silent she spoke evil words to me, saying that I was doomed to pull down my own House and to die as she died, words that have haunted me ever since and now haunt me most of all?  I wish to speak to you concerning them, Macumazahn, for it is said in the land that this beautiful witch loved you alone and that you only knew her mind.”

I made no reply, who was heartily tired of this subject of Mameena whom no one seemed able to forget.

“Well,” he went on, “we will talk of that matter alone, since it is not natural that you should wish to speak of your dead darlings before the world,” and with a wave of the hand he put the matter aside.  Then suddenly his attitude changed.  His face, that had been thoughtful and almost soft, became fierce, his form seemed to swell and he grew terrible.

“What was that dog doing?” he asked of Goza, pointing to the brute whom I had knocked down and who still lay prostrate on his back, afraid to stir.