Miss Poles was with us, the King having, since the morning, been restored to her good graces, thanks to Delange, who, fearing a scene, had given Nassar a hint or two. The latter, in consequence, lost no time in requesting that our beloved Englishwoman would grant him an interview, in order that he might confess to her his fears and regrets. He feared, according to the tale he now told, that he had misunderstood Munza's idea on the subject of Miss Poles; the word "old woman" had certainly not been uttered by the monarch; the interpreter had made a mistake, and had given a wrong translation of the Monbuttoo expression, which, as he had subsequently ascertained, meant in reality "pretty woman," or "uncommon woman."
Miss Poles eagerly accepted this explanation, just as everybody invariably does put implicit faith in whatever is pleasing, and in rare good humour, radiant, and got up regardless of expense, she accompanied us to the palace.
We were received at the outside palisading, and were at once conducted to the building in which the King's residence is situated. But, as we were about to enter the gallery already described, an officer made his appearance with the information that the King would only give audience to the white woman.
We stopped in astonishment. What did this whim mean? What peculiar notion had crossed the brain of the African monarch? Why were we to be separated from Madame de Guéran, and shut out from the interview?
"What do you think?" said I, turning to my friends.
"I think," replied de Morin, "that this savage is mad, and needs to be brought to his senses."
"And yon?" said I, turning to Delange, who did not appear to be quite so angry as de Morin.
"We must not give in to him," replied the Doctor.
"Give in to him!" exclaimed de Morin. "I should think not indeed! Who could possibly dream of allowing Madame de Guéran to venture alone into that den? If that is even taken into consideration for a moment, I will force my way into the palace, revolver in hand, and shoot this insolent savage as I would a dog."
"Calm yourself, my dear fellow," said I to our friend. "Nobody has any idea of truckling to the King's caprices."