Now I looked up by chance and in the light of the lamps saw Ayesha standing in the room, which she had entered through the open doorway, within six feet of Hans’ back indeed.

“Be sure Baas,” he went on, “that this bundle of rags is nothing but a common old cheat who frightens people by pretending to be a spook, as, if she dared to say that it was she who made those stinking Amahagger charge, and not the Great Medicine of the Opener-of-Roads, I would tell her to her face.”

Now I was too paralysed to speak, and while I was reflecting that it was fortunate Ayesha did not understand Dutch, she moved a little so that one of the lamps behind her caused her shadow to fall on to the back of the squatting Hans and over it on to the floor beyond.  He saw it and stared at the distorted shape of the hooded head, then slowly screwed his neck round and looked upwards behind him.

For a moment he went on staring as though he were frozen, then uttering a wild yell, he scrambled to his feet, bolted out of the house and vanished into the night.

“It seems, Allan,” said Ayesha slowly, “that yonder yellow ape of yours is very bold at throwing sticks when the leopardess is not beneath the tree.  But when she comes it is otherwise with him.  Oh! make no excuse, for I know well that he was speaking ill things of me, because being curious, as apes are, he burns to learn what is behind my veil, and being simple, believes that no woman would hide her face unless its fashion were not pleasing to the nice taste of men.”

Then, to my relief, she laughed a little, softly, which showed me that she had a sense of humour, and went on, “Well, let him be, for he is a good ape and courageous in his fashion, as he showed when he went out to spy upon the host of Rezu, and stabbed the murderer-priest by the stone of sacrifice.”

“How can you know the words of Hans, Ayesha,” I asked, “seeing that he spoke in a tongue which you have never learned?”

“Perchance I read faces, Allan.”

“Or backs,” I suggested, remembering that his was turned to her.

“Or backs, or voices, or hearts.  It matters little which, since read I do.  But have done with such childish talk and lead me to this maiden who has been snatched from the claws of Rezu and a fate that is worse than death.  Do you understand, Allan, that ere the demon Rezu took her to wife, the plan was to sacrifice her own father to her and then eat him as the woman with her was eaten, and before her eyes?  Now the father is dead, which is well, as I think the little yellow man said to you—­nay, start not, I read it from his back [Ha!—­JB]—­since had he lived whose brain was rotted, he would have raved till his death’s day.  Better, therefore, that he should die like a man fighting against a foe unconquerable by all save one.  But she still lives.”

“Aye, but mindless, Ayesha.”