"Yes, Lord Macumazahn; at least once I bore that name far away among the Arabs."
"But you are dead! They killed you there in the courtyard of Kaneke's house."
"No, Lord, they could not kill me. I escaped out of their hands and returned to this country before you, making your road smooth and easy."
"Before us! How did you do that?"
"It is one of the secrets which I may not reveal, Lord, nor does it matter. Also we have met since then when you were in trouble yonder with the 'dwellers in the forest' and one came to guide you."
"I thought it!" I exclaimed; "but before I could make sure you were gone, so that almost I believed you to be—not a woman but—well— one of the dwellers in the forest."
"I knew it," she replied with a sweet little smile, "and for the rest, even now are you sure that I am a woman?"
"No, I am not," I answered.
"Nor am I quite sure, Lord Macumazahn, but that is another of the secrets, and it does not matter. See, I am a messenger tonight whatever else I may be and I have brought you a letter which you can read when I am gone, for I think that to it there is no answer. Or if there should be an answer, shape it in your mind and I shall learn it there and deliver it word for word."
"Again I begin to think that you are a ghost, White–Mouse, for women do not talk thus," I said as I took the little roll of paper which she handed to me and laid it down upon the bed.
The truth was that at the moment I was more interested in White– Mouse than in what might be written in the roll.
"Although some do not know it, we are all of us ghosts, are we not, Lord Macumazahn? Though often if the veil of flesh be gross, the light of the ghost–lamp that shines within you cannot be seen. Lord, my time is short and I have something to say to you. Will it please you to listen?"
"When you speak, what could please me better, especially in this land, White–Mouse?"
Again there flitted across her face a quick smile so strangely sweet that it thrilled the nerves, as do certain notes of music we hear upon a violin. At least for some indefinable reason I always connect that smile of hers with such vibrating notes.
"Yet it would not please you in other lands, Lord, for there among your own people nothing would delight you less than to hear the voice of a ghost–woman, the dweller in a spell–bound, haunted place. Were it otherwise, perchance I should accompany you, as, although you will not see me, I may do yet."
"What do you mean?" I asked rather anxiously.
"Nothing that you need fear, Lord, except that I like you well, and both ghosts and women are pleased to be with those whom they like. Oh, I have watched you from the first and noted how you have borne many troubles that were not of your seeking, and read your heart and found it worthy to be praised. In this land, Lord, such are not found."
"I am glad to hear it," I said, who had little admiration for the Dabanda. Then to change the subject which I found somewhat personal and embarrassing, especially to a modest man who could neither rise nor escape, I added, "Will you do something for me, White–Mouse, and before you go? Tell me, why I was ever brought to your land?"
"You wished to come, Lord; and if they be real, wishes always fulfil themselves soon or late. Moreover, besides those you know which Kumpana has set out to you, there are other reasons, which, even if I might explain them, you would not understand."
"Why not?"
"Because they have to do with things which you have forgotten; yes, with other lives that lie buried in the past, when you and I and two great ones who dwell in the midst of Lake Mone, and Kumpana and Kaneke knew each other, as we do today. Man's life is a long story, Lord, of which we read but one mad chapter at a time, thinking that it is all the book, and not knowing what went before, nor what shall follow after."
Now I reflected that many wise men, of all epochs, such as Plato and others, as I have heard, were of this opinion—one that it is not impossible though difficult to accept at any rate in the West, whatever the East may hold. Not wishing, however, to enter upon so vast a subject, I merely said:
"And do YOU know, White–Mouse?"
"I know something, Lord, and I guess more. For the Dwellers in the Lake, whom doubtless you believe to be savages blinded by the teachings of a false faith, yet have the wisdom of our race."
"Yes," I answered sharply, "wisdom of which I saw the fruits last night when a man was burned living upon your altar fire."
"You are wrong, Lord. In our wisdom of the Lake, cruelty has no place, and with it she who rules the Lake has naught to do, though the Dabanda be given to her for servants, and in a fashion, for masters. When she learned what had chanced to Kaneke and to those whom he led astray, she wept, though she knew that these things must come and uttered the decree of death. Yes, we women of the Lake renounce the world and fix our thoughts on heaven, which is our home. Therefore do not judge us hardly, Lord, or measure us with the Dabanda rule. Now I have done, who may say no more, save this: Have no fear upon your journey, for we know that you will accomplish it safely and live on for many years. Go where fortune seems to lead you and all will succeed with you. So farewell, Lord Macumazahn. Think kindly of us of the Lake, although we be women, for as you have learned, or will learn, women, with all their faults, are better and wiser than men, for sometimes to them is shown the light that is hidden from the eyes of men."
Then she bent down, took my hand, kissed it, and turning lifted the curtain of the door–way of the house and glided away into the darkness, leaving me glad that I had found one person whom I could like in Mone–land, one, too, who liked me!
From the bed on the other side of the room came the stifled voice of Hans, whom all this while I had quite forgotten, saying:
"Is that the last kiss, Baas, and if so, may I put out my head? It is very hot here under this skin rug, where I have hidden my eyes for so long without being able to breathe, Baas."
"Well, you haven't hidden your ears," I said, "so stop talking rubbish and tell me what you think of White–Mouse."
"Oh, Baas," he said, sitting up, "I think that she is a spook, more so than all the rest of them. But I think also that she is a nice spook, although she did deceive me yonder in the Arab town, making me believe that she was a jealous wife of the Owl–man Kaneke, and that she liked me much more than she did him. Also I am happy now, Baas, because she, who being a spook knows all about it, said that we shall come safely to the end of our journey. But of course you are very unhappy because you have seen the last of one of whom you think so much, that you have even forgotten to read the letter she brought you, for reading letters is much duller than being kissed, Baas."
"Bring me the lamp," I said as I loosened the string of scented grass with which it was bound and undid the little roll.
It was of paper cut from a note–book, and, as I expected, from Arkle. It ran thus:
Dear Quatermain,
We know that you are going, and I send you this by a sure hand to bid you farewell. Do not think badly of me, Quatermain, because I have forsaken my country and put aside all the traditions in which I was brought up, in order to marry the priestess of a strange faith, here in Central Africa. Love is stronger than are the ties of country or of tradition, and in our case it is a force which will not be denied: a destiny indeed. Probably you put little faith in the stories I have told you of how I came to be drawn to my wife, thinking them the harmless imaginations of a romantic mind. Therefore of them I will only say that to me they seemed real enough and to be justified by the event, though of course here coincidence might have played its part. Probably, too, you set little store by the occult powers and superstitions of this secret and ancient people, finding for all, or most of them, a natural explanation.