“Juma the Strangler, whose word never failed to his master, whose prey never slipped from his snare, waits thy step on the road to thy home!  But thy death cannot now profit the dead, the beloved.  And thou hast had pity for him who took but thine aid to design thy destruction.  His life is lost, thine is saved!”

She spoke no more in the tongue that I could interpret.  She spoke, in the language unknown, a few murmured words to her swarthy attendants; then the armed men, still weeping, rose, and made a dumb sign to me to go with them.  I understood by the sign that Ayesha had told them to guard me on my way; but she gave no reply to my parting thanks.

XI

I descended into the valley; the armed men followed.  The path, on that side of the water course not reached by the flames, wound through meadows still green, or amidst groves still unscathed.  As a turning in the way brought in front of my sight the place I had left behind, I beheld the black litter creeping down the descent, with its curtains closed, and the Veiled Woman walking by its side.  But soon the funeral procession was lost to my eyes, and the thoughts that it roused were erased.  The waves in man’s brain are like those of the sea, rushing on, rushing over the wrecks of the vessels that rode on their surface, to sink, after storm, in their deeps.  One thought cast forth into the future now mastered all in the past:  “Was Lilian living still?” Absorbed in the gloom of that thought, hurried on by the goad that my heart, in its tortured impatience, gave to my footstep, I outstripped the slow stride of the armed men, and, midway between the place I had left and the home which I sped to, came, far in advance of my guards, into the thicket in which the Bushmen had started up in my path on the night that Lilian had watched for my coming.  The earth at my feet was rife with creeping plants and many-colored flowers, the sky overhead was half hid by motionless pines.  Suddenly, whether crawling out from the herbage or dropping down from the trees, by my side stood the white-robed and skeleton form—­Ayesha’s attendant the Strangler.

I sprang from him shuddering, then halted and faced him.  The hideous creature crept toward me, cringing and fawning, making signs of humble goodwill and servile obeisance.  Again I recoiled—­ wrathfully, loathingly, turned my face homeward, and fled on.  I thought I had baffled his chase, when, just at the mouth of the thicket, he dropped from a bough in my path close behind me.  Before I could turn, some dark muffling substance fell between my sight and the sun, and I felt a fierce strain at my throat.  But the words of Ayesha had warned me; with one rapid hand I seized the noose before it could tighten too closely, with the other I tore the bandage away from my eyes, and, wheeling round on the dastardly foe, struck him down with one spurn of my foot.  His hand, as he fell, relaxed its hold on the noose; I freed my throat from the knot, and sprang from the copse into the broad sunlit plain.  I saw no more of the armed men or the Strangler.  Panting and breathless, I paused at last before the fence, fragrant with blossoms, that divided my home from the solitude.