"I agree. My wives shall not be put to death, and they shall be given to your sister. She may do what she likes with them, and I will burn all their houses—I will not have any harem. That is her wish, is it not?"
"Quite so," said our friend, who now, in his turn, waited for Munza to state his intentions and unfold his plans.
The King hesitated. The tyrant, the despot without pity or remorse, was as a child in all that concerned the woman he loved.
"When," he asked at length, "will your sister deign to take up her abode in my palace, and the place of all those whom I have just given to her?"
"As soon as she can obtain the consent of her father," replied de
Morin, unhesitatingly.
Delange and I exchanged despairing glances. Our friend had evidently lost his head. Munza was quite as much astonished as we were; but in his case amazement and anger were blended.
"Your father is not with you," said he; "and, therefore, his consent cannot be obtained."
"In that case our sister cannot marry you," replied de Morin. "She is bound to respect the custom of her own country, and, as far as that goes, this custom prevails amongst all the tribes we came across before reaching the Monbuttoos. To gain the daughter, is it not always necessary to apply to the father?"
"And how am I to apply to yours?" exclaimed Munza, becoming furious.
"He is far, far away in your country, and I cannot get at him."
"If he were far away," replied de Morin, in the same quiet tone that he had used throughout the interview, "I should not have mentioned him. But our father has not been in our country for a long time; he is now a prisoner in a kingdom close to yours, towards the south."