village, and it very soon reached M'Bongwele's ears. That monarch
happened, just then, to be plunged into a state of serious domestic
affliction; and, inspired by the above occurrence with a brilliant idea,
he, after much painful cogitation, resolved to seek the aid of his
prisoners. Briefly stated, the difficulty was this. His youngest and
favourite wife had just added another to his already too numerous family
of daughters, thus disgusting and seriously disappointing the king, who
had confidently looked forward to being this time blessed with a son.
This was by no means the first disappointment of the kind that the
monarch had been called upon to endure; and it had been his wont, on
such occasions, to banish the offending wife from his presence,
replacing her with a new one. He proposed to follow the same rule upon
the present occasion; and the only difficulty which lay in his way
consisted in suitably filling up the vacancy. There were, of course,
hundreds of sable damsels within the limits of his dominions who would
gladly have accepted the responsibilities of the position, but that
would no longer suit king M'Bongwele; the women of his own race had, one
and all, so far as he had tried them, failed disgracefully in their duty
of providing him with an heir, and he was now determined to try
elsewhere. He happened to have in his possession, as prisoners, four
white women, one of whom was somewhat elderly, whilst the remaining
three were young, and, though by no means sufficiently _embonpoint_ to
be strictly handsome, from an African savage's point of view, still
attractive enough to justify his choice of either of them as a wife.
The difficulty with these women was that they were unfortunately all
insane--a circumstance which (in accordance with one of the many
superstitious beliefs of the natives, and quite apart from the equally
important objection of consequent unsuitability) effectually precluded
any resort to threats or compulsion for enabling the king to carry out
his plans. And it was for the purpose of securing these unfortunate
creatures' restoration to reason that M'Bongwele now resolved to invoke
the potent aid of his new prisoners. When making up his mind to this
course he was at first greatly puzzled as to how he should approach the
individuals he had so basely betrayed, and how explain and excuse his
conduct; but at last the happy idea suggested itself of ignoring his
ill-behaviour altogether; and acting upon this, and without giving
himself time for further consideration, he hurried off to the hut and
presented himself before his prisoners.
Seating himself jauntily upon one of the bedsteads, he opened the
negotiations by explaining that he had come to express his admiration
of, and his thanks for, the wonderful manner in which the woman had been
saved from the deadly effects of the snake-bite; and then, without
affording an opportunity for interruption, he went on to state, in full
detail, his further business.
The indignation excited in the breasts of his listeners by the cool
impudence of the king soon subsided under the influence of the
interesting news that four white women were captives in the village; and
when M'Bongwele closed his explanation and proffered his request, the
professor, instead of loading his captor with reproaches, followed the
latter's example of ignoring all cause for unpleasantness, and simply
stated that no promise of any kind could be made until the four friends
had been afforded an interview with the afflicted women. To this
proposition the king eagerly assented, overjoyed at so unexpected a
measure of success, indeed he volunteered to personally conduct the
quartette into the presence of his female prisoners; but this was
promptly negatived, the professor declaring that if he and his friends
went to see the women at all they must go entirely unattended, and at
such time as might be most convenient to themselves. It would have
suited M'Bongwele very much better to have been present at this
interview, for he was suspicious to a really absurd degree; but, finding
the white men firm upon this point, and, apparently, wholly indifferent
in the matter, and being also unable to discover any cause for suspicion
in their conduct, he at length yielded his assent and retired, giving
the necessary instructions to the guard as he passed out of the hut.
The next morning, about eleven o'clock, having previously talked this
curious matter carefully over together, they paid their promised visit;
the women's prison (to which they were carefully escorted by their
entire guard) being situated close to the principal opening in the
palisading which surrounded the village; the same guard being apparently
made to serve for both the prison and the gateway. The building was an
almost exact facsimile of their own place of confinement, both in shape
and dimensions; but at the very threshold the visitors encountered
evidences of female delicacy and refinement in the shape of finely woven
grass curtains or _portieres_ across the otherwise unclosed entrance,
and these trifling elegances were multiplied a hundred-fold in the
interior, converting the little building into a veritable miniature
palace in comparison with their own unadorned domicile.
But these little interior adornments did not attract the visitors'
notice until later on; their whole attention was at once claimed, upon
their entrance, by the occupants of the building, or at least by the
fairer portion of them. There were eight altogether--four white and
four black, the ebony damsels evidently filling the position of
attendants. Of the white women three were young--that is to say, they
apparently ranged between nineteen and twenty-five years of age--whilst
the fourth seemed to be somewhere between forty and fifty. This lady
was of medium height, with a figure slightly inclined toward stoutness,
brown hair with just a single streak of silver discernible here and
there amongst it, a complexion still in fairly good preservation, a pair
of keen but kindly grey eyes, an excellent set of teeth, shapely hands
and feet, and a pleasant smile which at once prepossessed the beholder
in its possessor's favour. Of the three younger women, two, aged
respectively twenty-one and nineteen, were sisters; whilst the third,
aged twenty-five, was their cousin, the elderly lady being aunt to all
three.
On entering the hut, in response to the cry of "Come in" which followed
their knock on the framework of the portal, the visitors at once found
themselves face to face with the four ladies, who had risen to their
feet to meet them; the sable attendants crouching at the rear end of the
apartment with a grin of sympathetic curiosity overspreading their
shining visages.
"You are most welcome, gentlemen," said the elderly lady, advancing and
offering her hand to each of her visitors in succession. "We have been
expecting you. Allow me to perform the ceremony of introduction. I am
Mrs Scott, widow of Brigadier-general Scott of her majesty's forces in
India. This lady is Miss Sabine, my niece and the only daughter of
Major-general Sabine; and these are respectively Miss Rose and Miss
Lucilla Lumsden, the daughters of an Indian judge."
The gentlemen bowed low as each name was mentioned, and, upon Mrs Scott
making a somewhat significant pause, the baronet took up his parable,
remarking:
"We are greatly honoured and delighted, ladies, at thus unexpectedly
making your acquaintance in this out-of-the-way spot, and we sincerely
hope that the acquaintanceship will redound to our mutual advantage. I
am Sir Reginald Elphinstone. This gentleman is Colonel Lethbridge; this
is Lieutenant Mildmay, of her majesty's navy; and, last but by no means
least, this gentleman is Professor von Schalckenberg, an eminent German
scientist, a most delightful companion, and a man clever enough, I
firmly believe, to help us all out of our present difficulties."
A general shaking of hands ensued; and then Mrs Scott laughingly
invited the gentlemen to seat themselves on the four bamboo pallets
which occupied opposite sides of the apartment, apologising at the same
time for the lack of suitable sitting accommodation.
"And now," said Mrs Scott laughingly, "to which of you gentlemen are we
to look for the cure of our madness?"
"It is expected, I believe," said Sir Reginald, "that we shall each aid,
to the best of our ability, in the good work. But," he continued in a
lower and more cautious tone of voice, "is it not rather imprudent of
you to behave in so very sane a manner before these women?"
"Oh," said Mrs Scott, "they are all right. They are perfectly
trustworthy--indeed, they are actively aiding and abetting us in the
exceedingly disagreeable but necessary deception we are practising upon
king M'Bongwele. The wretch!" she continued, starting indignantly to
her feet. "Would you believe it? He actually has the audacity and
impudence to--to--to--"
"To aspire to a matrimonial alliance with one, if not all, of you. Yes,
I am aware of his ambition," said the baronet with a smile; "and whilst
we are here to-day, at his request, to remove the obstacle which your
most deplorable insanity interposes, I hope that the ultimate result
will be your speedy deliverance, with our own, from his power. We are,
like yourselves, prisoners, but we are by no means hopeless of escape,
and I pledge you my word that we will not leave until we can take you
all with us."
Mrs Scott shook her head somewhat doubtfully. "We are all infinitely
obliged to you for your generous promise," she said with a sigh; "but I
greatly fear you are somewhat overrating your powers. The difficulties
of escape--in the first place, from this village, and, in the next
place, from the country itself--are so formidable that we have almost
given up all hope. May I ask what strange accident brought you hither?"
"Assuredly," answered the baronet. "And when I have informed you of the
facts, you will see that the difficulties of escape are, after all, not
so very enormous, and I trust that you will all take heart once more."
Sir Reginald then proceeded to give a detailed description of the
_Flying Fish_; and of his own and his companions' adventures in her;
winding up with an account of their capture--so far as they were aware
of its details--and a recital of the grounds upon which they founded
their hopes of escape.
The ladies listened to Sir Reginald's singular story with an
astonishment which they vainly strove to conceal, and had it been
uncorroborated, they would probably have suspected in him a touch of the
same malady with which they were supposed to be afflicted; but, as
matters were, they had no choice but to credit the tale, and very much
gratified they were to learn that there existed a means of conveyance
affording, if they could but once gain access to it, a safe, easy, and
speedy escape from the realms of king M'Bongwele.
Sir Reginald, having brought his story to an end, requested that he and
his companions might be favoured with an account of the manner in which
the ladies had fallen into the hands of the savages, which request Mrs
Scott complied with, somewhat in the following terms:
"It is, to a great extent, my fault that these poor girls find
themselves in the unfortunate position which they occupy to-day. I have
been a widow for nearly seven years; but, having been early left an
orphan, with no friends in England and many in India, I did not, as many
newly-made widows do, turn my face homeward immediately on my husband's
death; on the contrary, I determined rather to remain in the country of
my adoption, and, being left in tolerably comfortable circumstances,
made arrangements to reside alternately in Delhi and Simla. These
arrangements I duly carried into effect, and nothing occurred to disturb
them until about a year ago, when my brother, Sir James Lumsden, died,
leaving his motherless daughters--Rose and Lucilla here--in my care,
with an earnest entreaty that I would convey them, at my earliest
convenience, home to their grandfather, who owns a very fine place in
Hampshire, and who would, doubtless, be glad to receive them. I, of
course, very willingly undertook the duty--not the less so, perhaps,
from the fact that I was myself somewhat ailing, and had been strongly
urged by my medical adviser to try the effect of change and a long sea
voyage. Our preparations were soon completed, and we journeyed down to
Bombay, at which place I happened to meet my brother-in-law, General
Sabine. He, poor man, was in a great difficulty just then, being under
orders to proceed at once to Afghanistan, and not knowing what to do
with his daughter, who, I ought to explain, has been motherless from her
infancy. The best way I could see out of the difficulty was for her to
take the trip home to Europe with us, and, upon my making the proposal,
it was joyfully adopted. So far all was well; but at this point our
difficulties were to begin. We, unfortunately, took passage for London
in a sailing ship for my health's sake. We, or the ship rather, had to
call at the Cape, and, three weeks after we sailed, the captain died.
The chief mate then assumed the command of the vessel, and in a few days
afterwards we found that he was giving way to drink. That was,
doubtless, the cause of the disaster which followed, for on a dark and
stormy night, whilst the chief mate--or captain, rather, I suppose I
ought to call him--was lying in his berth in a state of almost helpless
intoxication, and the ship was flying before the rising gale under all
the sail the sailors could spread, _we struck_! the masts snapped short
off at the deck, and in a moment all was confusion and panic. The mate,
or captain, staggered up on deck to see what was the matter, and he had
scarcely reached the poop when a breaker swept down upon the wreck and
washed the unhappy wretch overboard, never to be seen again. The next
officer--a brave energetic young fellow--then took command, and by his
coolness and courage soon restored order among the crew. He commanded
the lead-line to be dropped overboard, and by its means ascertained that
the ship was being rapidly driven shoreward by the force of the waves.
Meanwhile the shocks of the ship striking against the ground gradually
grew less and less severe, until they ceased altogether, and the vessel
became motionless save for an occasional sickening lurch when an
exceptionally heavy wave struck her. By this time it was ascertained
that the hold was nearly full of water, a circumstance from which the
young officer in charge came to the conclusion that the hull was
irretrievably damaged, and he then gave orders to lower the boats. This
task the sailors with great difficulty accomplished, and then, there
being at the moment no immediate prospect of the wreck going to pieces,
the boats were secured under the shelter of the ship, and it was
determined to defer until daylight our attempt at landing, when the
dangers of the enterprise could be distinctly seen and more easily
avoided. About two hours elapsed between the first striking of the
vessel and the launching of the boats, during which time I and my nieces
were on deck in our night-dresses, supplemented by such wraps as we had
been able to hastily snatch on the moment of the first alarm. But when
the boats had been safely lowered into the sea and secured, Mr
Snelgrove (the young officer who had last assumed the command) came to
us, and, in the kindest manner possible, begged us to retire to our
cabins, assuring us that we might do so with perfect safety, and that we
might depend on him to summon us in good time to attempt a landing with
the rest of the crew. We accordingly took his advice, glad to get back
to the shelter of the saloon, where we at once discarded our wet
garments and proceeded to make ourselves as comfortable as the
circumstances permitted. Day broke at length, and then Mr Snelgrove
made his appearance in the saloon, informing us that the weather had
moderated, the sea gone down a good deal, and the tide had ebbed,
rendering it a favourable moment to attempt a landing, which he believed
might be effected without much danger; he further added that the seamen
were then passing provisions and water into the boats, and that he would
allow us ten minutes wherein to select and pack a small bundle of such
clothing and effects as might be deemed by us most necessary. At length
the eventful moment arrived for us to pass down into the boats, and
though we were assured by the sailors that there was no danger, I never
was so thoroughly frightened in my life, for the sea was still very
rough, leaping, curling, and foaming all round us. However, we all
managed to embark without accident, and then our boat (which was the
second to make the attempt) pushed off and made for the shore. The
breakers were appalling, and the boat was turned round with her bow
pointing seaward, and `backed'--I think they called it--toward the
shore. The sea broke over us several times, half filling the boat; but
two men were kept constantly baling with buckets, and at length--thanks
to Mr Snelgrove's admirable management--we safely reached the beach,
but wet to the skin as a matter of course. Meanwhile, the first boat,
in charge of the boatswain, had discharged her cargo on the beach, and
was now sent back with four men to the wreck to bring on shore the
remainder of the crew and whatever of value they could lay their hands
upon. This going to and fro between the beach and the ship lasted
nearly all day, and by nightfall we had quite a large quantity of
provisions, water, canvas, spars, and other matters, and last, but not
least, all my nieces' and my own boxes. The sailors constructed two
tents in a sheltered spot high up on the beach--one for themselves and
one for us--and we at length retired to spend our first night in the
character of castaways.
"About an hour before daybreak we were rudely awakened--to find
ourselves in the power of the savages. I am of opinion that we must
have been watched during the whole of the previous day, for the surprise
of the camp was complete; we had been noiselessly surrounded, and,
whilst we unfortunate women were spared, the equally unfortunate men
were, for the most part, slain in their sleep; not one had escaped--at
least we never afterwards saw any of them alive. The camp was of course
ransacked, and when every man had possessed himself of whatever happened
to take his fancy, we were placed in the centre of the band and conveyed
to this place, where we have been detained close prisoners ever since.
The scattered contents of the camp must afterwards, I fancy, have been
collected and brought to this village, for a few days later our boxes--
broken open and the contents in a dreadfully soiled and disordered
condition--were brought to us, and upon our replying in the affirmative
to the questions put to us by signs as to whether they were our
property, were left in our possession. I have only to add that the
wreck, and the horrors which succeeded it, proved too much for poor
Lucilla in her then somewhat weak state of health, and she fell into a
low fever with delirium, which prostrated her for nearly three months,
and from the effects of which she has even now not wholly recovered. It
was during this dreadfully anxious period that those four poor black
creatures were appointed to attend upon us. They have been most zealous
and faithful in their efforts to help us; they have instructed us to
some extent in their simple language; and they have informed us, not
only that they are cast-off wives of the king, but that he was, and
still is, anxious to secure one (if not more) of my nieces for a wife,
and that the only hope of escape from such a fate lay in our simulating
insanity, which, most reluctantly, we have been compelled to do whenever
M'Bongwele or any of his emissaries have visited us. But, beyond our
close confinement and this horrible ever-impending danger, we have no
very great cause for complaint, all our expressed wants being instantly
satisfied so far as the resources of the king will permit."
Mrs Scott having thus brought her story to an end, the gentlemen
expressed their sympathy and condolences, and the conversation gradually
grew more general. At length, much as they would have liked to prolong
the interview, they felt that they had already lengthened it out almost
beyond the bounds of prudence, so they rose to take leave, uttering a
few encouraging remarks, which Sir Reginald rounded off with an
exhortation to them to be ever on the watch, and to hold themselves in
readiness for flight at a moment's notice, adding that one or other of
the gentlemen would visit them as often as possible and keep them well
informed upon the progress of events.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
RETRIBUTION OVERTAKES KING M'BONGWELE.
King M'Bongwele had evidently been keenly on the watch for the return of
the four prisoners, for they had scarcely had time to enter their hut
when the monarch presented himself before them, and, with some little
impatience of manner, began his interrogations with the single word:
"Well?"
"We can cure them," briefly answered the professor.
"Good!" ejaculated the king, his impatience yielding to almost childish
delight. "When is the cure to be performed?"
"Within one span of the sun's journey through the sky after we have
administered a certain medicine, which we must procure from the ship.
Provide us each with a horse to go and fetch this medicine, and I
promise you, that before you see the stars to-night those women shall be
in as full possession of their reason as you are."
"No," said the king, eyeing the professor keenly, "I will arrange better
than that. You shall tell Lualamba where to find this wonderful
medicine, and he shall fetch it for you."
"That will not do at all," answered the professor. "Lualamba could
never find the medicine; he could not even gain access to the ship. We
must fetch it ourselves."
M'Bongwele rested his chin in his hand for some minutes, pondering
deeply. Then he rose to his feet and stalked out of the hut again
without vouchsafing a word, either "yea" or "nay."
"He is not quite such a fool as he looks," was the baronet's sole
comment upon this strange behaviour, and then they sat down to luncheon.
The king, upon re-entering his palace, at once sent for Lualamba, and,
upon that chief making his appearance, issued strict orders that every
available man, woman, and child, not only in the village but in the
entire district, should be mustered by noon next day, to make one grand
and final attempt to move the ship to the village, pending which the
king decided to hold no further communications with his prisoners. The
attempt was made in due course, and, like the others, it proved, as
might be expected, a miserable failure. Poor M'Bongwele was now
completely at a loss; he knew not what to do. He was most anxious to
have the white women cured; but he had a powerful presentiment that if
those singular beings, whom he certainly to some extent had in his
power, once again set foot upon that curious thing they called a "ship,"
his power over them would be gone for ever. And in such a case he felt
that his fate was certain; he had laid unholy hands upon them, and dire
would be his punishment. No; he was convinced that at all costs they
must be debarred from access to that terrible "ship," unless he could
first of all gain their forgiveness, amity, and good-will, and interest
them in his fortunes to the extent of securing their active co-operation
in his schemes of conquest and aggrandisement. How to do this was,
however, the question which puzzled king M'Bongwele; and it puzzled him
so long that--but stay, we must not forestall the story.
Thus engaged in a futile endeavour to discover a way out of his dilemma,
the king kept himself strictly secluded in his palace day after day,
allowing no one access to him unless upon business of the utmost urgency
and importance. Meanwhile, Seketulo, deeming the period a favourable
one for the furtherance of his own schemes, first exhibited an increased
amount of precaution in the proper posting of the guard over the
prisoners, and then a gradually growing disposition to converse with the
prisoners themselves. From this he proceeded to develop an interest,
which, after a suitable lapse of time, was allowed to merge into anxiety
for their welfare and greater comfort, and, finding these cautious
advances well received, he then set to work in real earnest upon the
delicate task of unfolding his proposals. He was so very cautious,
however, and took so long a time about this, that he missed his
opportunity altogether, and that, too, through a very simple accident.
It happened one night that, after an unusually long, disjointed, and
desultory conversation with this same chief, Mildmay failed to get to
sleep with his usual promptitude, and he lay tossing restlessly upon his
pallet until he became impatient and finally exasperated at his want of
success. The hut felt hot and stuffy to the verge of suffocation, and
the lieutenant at length came to the conclusion that there was no hope
of his getting to sleep until he had taken a turn or two up and down the
compound, in the comparatively cool night air.