“Of whom do you speak, King?” asked Owen, who at that moment entered the royal house.

“Of him whom you must have touched in the door-way, Messenger, Hokosa the wizard,” answered the king, and he told him of what had passed between them.  “I said,” he added, “that he was a man, and so he is; yet I hold that I have done wrong to listen to your pleading and to spare him, for I am certain that he will bring bloodshed upon me and trouble on the Faith.  Think now, Messenger, how full must be that man’s heart of secret rage and hatred, he who was so great and is now so little!  Will he not certainly strive to grow great again?  Will he not strive to be avenged upon those who humbled him and the religion they have chosen?”

“It may be,” answered Owen, “but if so, he will not conquer.  I tell you, King, that like water hidden in a rock there is good in this man’s heart, and that I shall yet find a rod wherewith to cause it to gush out and refresh the desert.”

“It is more likely that he will find a spear wherewith to cause your blood to gush out and refresh the jackals,” answered the king grimly; “but be it as you will.  And now, what of your business?”

“This, King:  John, my servant, has returned from the coast countries, and he brings me a letter saying that before long three white teachers will follow him to take up the work which I have begun.  I pray that when they come, for my sake and for the sake of the truth that I have taught you, you will treat them kindly and protect them, remembering that at first they can know little of your language or your customs.”

“I will indeed,” said the king, with much concern.  “But tell me, Messenger, why do you speak of yourself as of one who soon will be but a memory?  Do you purpose to leave us?”

“No, King, but I believe that ere long I shall be recalled.  I have given my message, my task is well-nigh ended and I must be turning home.  Save for your sakes I do not sorrow at this, for to speak truth I grow very weary,” and he smiled sadly.

*****

Hokosa went home alarmed and full of bitterness, for he had never guessed that the “servant of the Messenger,” as he called Nodwengo the King, knew so much about him and his plans.  His fall was hard to him, but to be thus measured up, weighed, and contemptuously forgiven was almost more than he could bear.  It was the white prophet who had done this thing; he had told Nodwengo of his, Hokosa’s, share in the plot to murder the late King Umsuka, though how he came to know of that matter was beyond guessing.  He had watched him, or caused him to be watched, when he went forth to consult spirits in the place of the dead; he had warned Nodwengo against him.  Worst of all, he had dared to treat him with contempt; had pleaded for his life and safety, so that he was spared as men spare a snake from which the charmer has drawn the fangs.  When they met in the gate of the king’s house yonder this white thief, who had stolen his place and power, had even smiled upon him and greeted him kindly, and doubtless while he smiled, by aid of the magic he possessed, had read him through and gone on to tell the story to the king.  Well, of this there should be an end; he would kill the Messenger, or himself be killed.