CHAPTER XXXI.

It appeared that Munza had shown us the greatest marks of favour. As a rule he received strangers very coldly and rarely addressed them, and to converse with any one at such length as he had done with us was a mark of distinguished regard.

We could estimate our advance in royal favour by comparing the attitude of his courtiers after his departure with their manner towards us before his arrival. Two hours previously they had been silent and reserved, but now they showed themselves eager to make our acquaintance, polite, and rather troublesome. They surrounded us and asked all sorts of questions, jostling each other to inspect us closely and touch our clothes. Some presumptuous hands reached our faces, and we were obliged to rap the knuckles of the most importunate with the handles of our hunting knives. Assisted by Nassar and our interpreter, we made a regular ring round Madame de Guéran, and were, fortunately, able to prevent any one from coming near her.

Miss Poles was, also, the object of the most lively curiosity; her spectacles were a source of wonder, and her general appearance was evidently bewildering. But we were not at all uneasy about the fair Beatrice; she was a woman eminently calculated to take care of herself, and she did not fall short of our expectations, her hands being very busy about the ears of those who came too near her.

After having left the audience hall and traversed the courts and gardens of the palace, we found ourselves once more in the midst of the crowd, who, to do honour to their King's guests, treated us to some more music, and escorted us as far as our camp. Then, and only then, did we get rid of their too pressing attentions, thanks entirely to our bearers, who had occupied their leisure moments, during our absence, in enclosing our kraal with a strong palisading. By a delicate attention, evidently due to Munza himself, who was alive to the spirit of curiosity inherent in his subjects, we were also furnished with a guard of fifty men, armed with long poles, who patrolled round the encampment and kept all intruders away.

Nor was this all. Another right royal surprise awaited us, for in the hut, constructed for the reception of our baggage and food, we found the most valuable present we could possibly have had under the circumstances. It consisted of provisions of all kinds—grain, vegetables, fruit, fowls, goats, and beer. Our host had foreseen all our wants and our wishes, and if he had shown himself but little disposed to be communicative towards us, he was lavish enough in other ways.

We lost no time in despatching to him, as a present, a novel object, calculated to take the fancy of all Africans, although they have not the remotest idea how to use it and are very likely to break it. It was a tolerably large musical box. To it we added a capital watch, the case of which was copper, silver and gold being unknown in this country and invariably mistaken for tin and copper.

Whilst waiting for the repast being prepared for us by our head-cook, a Nubian _cordon-bleu_, assisted by two Soudan women, also well-versed in the culinary art, we reviewed the incidents of the day. It is clear that Munza, in appearance at all events, is well disposed towards us; but will he be able to give us the desired information, which he will be asked to impart during our interview to-morrow? We begin to have our doubts about it. During his conversation with de Morin, not a single allusion, however indirect, was made to M. de Guéran. The King talked about Schweinfurth, and recollected him perfectly, albeit the African memory is treacherous to a degree, but he did not say a single word bearing on our countryman.

Why this reserve? To what end this silence? Does not Munza know anything? Has he never seen M. de Guéran? Is he ignorant that this European has passed through his dominions, a fact testified to by Nassar, and recorded by our countryman himself in his letters? It is difficult to give credence to this apparent want of knowledge. How is it possible that a despot, surrounded by innumerable emissaries, should have failed to be warned of the arrival of a white man in his kingdom?

We summoned Nassar, and asked him if the silence of the King had not surprised him, if he did not expect Munza to mention M. de Guéran, whose visit to him was of later date than that of Schweinfurth? Our guide replied that he had quite expected the King to mention M. de Guéran, but he added that the negroes easily forget what is reported to them on the subject of any conversation, and remember facts alone. Munza had seen Schweinfurth, received him at court, and shaken hands with him; these were facts, and he could remember them. M. de Guéran, on the other hand, was only known to him by hearsay, and, therefore, may have escaped his memory.

"You admit, then," I asked, "that our countryman may have passed through this country without seeing the King?"

"Certainly," replied Nassar. "Fearing to be stopped by Munza, as my master, Schweinfurth was, he very probably continued his route southwards, without halting here."

"Nevertheless, he did halt, for, according to your own account, you entertained him for twenty-four hours."

"Not in this district," answered Nassar, quickly. "It was in a territory lying to the south-east of us, forming part of Munza's kingdom, but under the administration of Degberra, one of his brothers. I was there, as I have already told you, managing a branch trading establishment, belonging to Aboo-Sammit, and Munza does not allow any depôt to be set up in the provinces governed by himself in person."

This explanation was probable enough. Indeed, M. de Guéran alluded in his letter to the kingdom of the Monbuttoos, but he did not mention the name of Munza. This latter personage, therefore, may, as Nassar suggests, very well have forgotten the accidental presence, in his dominions, of a stranger whom he never saw. By making an appeal to his memory, we shall, doubtless, obtain some useful hints.

Thanks to the liberality of the African potentate, our dinner, the best we have had for the last three months, was a very cheerful meal. Joseph alone, who waited on us as usual, was melancholy in the extreme. He handed us the dishes with an air of sadness, trembling at the slightest sound; if any of us asked for a knife and fork in a louder tone than usual, he turned pale, and once I caught him in the act of wiping his eyes on the table-napkin which hung over his arm.

And yet, he ought to be in good spirits and proud of the part he played during the day. The monarch of a mighty nation, one of those sovereigns who is feared and respected without any reservation or opposition, such as is so often the case in Europe, had condescended to address him personally, and had for a moment taken him to be the leader of the caravan. Was it that he could not realize his good fortune? Did he now despise those gratifying tributes to his _amour-propre_, formerly so eagerly sought after by him? What was passing in his troubled spirit?

At dessert we demanded an explanation. He hesitated at first and begged to be excused, but at last, under the pressure of renewed importunities, he struck a theatrical attitude, and exclaimed suddenly, and in stilted tones—

"_Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes_."

We looked at him with amazement, and then burst out laughing.

"You know Latin, it appears," said de Morin, when he had recovered his composure.

"Certainly," replied Joseph, bridling. "Before I went to service, I was in the fourth class at a provincial school."

"What are you talking about? You were in the fourth class—you! In what capacity—professor, perhaps?"

"No sir."

"Pupil, then?"

"No, sir, nor pupil either."

"What then? Out with it."

"As a servant, sir. I brushed the clothes, swept the room, lighted the fires, and whilst attending to these duties, I listened to the lectures of the Professors, read the exercise books of the pupils, and gained instruction."

"Then," continued de Morin, making frantic efforts to prevent himself from laughing in the face of his servant, "you know the meaning of the sentence you have quoted?"

"Certainly, sir," replied Joseph. "_Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes_ means, I fear the Greeks, especially, when they come with gifts in their hands."

"A perfect translation, but why did you let fly the quotation full in our faces in this unexpected fashion?"

"Sir," said Joseph, with a most serious air, "I consider that it has a local signification, for the Greeks, according to my idea, are represented by the Monbuttoos, and the word 'gifts' means food, provisions, meals. The quotation, therefore, stands as if I had said— 'I fear the Monbuttoos, and the meals with which they are providing us.'"

"And why this fear, Joseph?" asked de Morin. "Do you think that the food is poisoned? It is rather late in the day to tell us so."

"No, sir, but I cannot divest myself of the idea that this nation of cannibals is overwhelming us with provisions and fattening us up, so that later on they may dine off us with greater enjoyment."

De Morin could not contain himself any longer. He roared with laughter, and we all joined him.

Joseph appeared perfectly scandalized at the unseemly mirth, and kept on saying—

"It is not my own opinion that I have given utterance to. It is the opinion of all the bearers, and their only motive for working so hard at the construction of a palisade round the camp was their fear of being attacked to-night. Alas! will it protect us?"