Monty beckoned to the Baganda who had once done Schillingschen’s dirty work.

“D’you see this man?  This is a German spy.  The German will be willing to hand over your relations in exchange for a promise not to make a fuss about this man.  Wait a minute, though!  Are your relations criminals?”

“No, bwana!  No, bwana!  My relations honorable folk!  Formerly living in Zanzibar—­going to Bagamoyo to serve in German family by invitation of person attached to German Consulate—­no sooner landed than thrown in jail on charges they know nothing whatever about.  Then Schillingschen he finding me, and say to me, ’You show where is that Tippoo Tib’s ivory, and your relations shall go free!’ And Tippoo Tib, he say to me, ’You take first step to show any man where is that ivory, and you shall be fed to white ants by my faithful people!’ And Schillingschen he catch two of them faithful people, and feed ’em to white ants when nobody looking that way!  Schillingschen terrible!  Tippoo Tib terrible!  What shall do?  Tippoo Tib, he one time making me go long trip with Bwana Coutlass, very bad Greek.  Bwana Coutlass wanting ivory—­me pretending showing him—­leading him wrong way.  Coutlass very bad man, beating me ngumu sana.* All the same, me more afraid of Tippoo Tib and Bwana Schillingschen.  Not long ago Tippoo Tib sending me with Bwana Coutlass second time, making bad threats against me if I not lead him wrong.  Then Schillingschen he send for me and making worse threats!  Oh, what shall do!  Oh, what shall do!” [* Ngumu sana, very severely.]

“You shall show us where that ivory is!” Monty answered him.  “Stop blubbering!  Get up!  Look here!  See this! (Get me that diary, Will.) If the Germans won’t release your relations from jail on account of this Baganda, this is a written book that will make them do it!  In this book are the names of men who have broken treaties and the law of nations.  When the Germans know the British Government in London has this book under lock and key, they will think it a little thing to release your relations for the sake of avoiding trouble!”

“Promise me, bwana!  You promise me!”

“I promise I will do my best for you.”

“Word of an Englishman—­promise!”

“Word Of an Englishman—­I promise to do my best!”

That was a proud enough moment on the shoulder of a mountain, with wilderness in every direction farther than the highest eagle in the air above could see, to have that helpless, hopeless ex-slave, part Arab, part machenzie, put his whole stock-in-trade—­his secret—­all he had on earth to bargain with for those he loved—­in the balance on the promise of an Englishman.  It was a tribute to a race that has had its share, no doubt, of bad men, but has won dominion over half the earth and pretty much all the sea by keeping faith with men who could not by any means compel good faith.

“Then I tell!” said Hassan.  “Then I show!”