"Speak," replied the King, "and I will endeavour to be of service to you."
"We quite believe you. To see you and hear you is to believe in your sincerity."
De Morin had expressed the opinion of all of us. At first sight we were drawn towards this savage, so superior to all those whom we had seen, even to the King of the Monbuttoos himself.
"Whatever you do, do not wound our touchy Munza by being too complimentary to his ally," said I to de Morin.
"Make your mind easy," replied my friend. "His turn will come."
Turning again towards Kadjoro, he resumed, aloud—
"We are in search of a white man, our father. He stayed for some time in this country, and we are come to you for news of him."
"Your father! The white man was your father?"
De Morin was fully alive to all the dangers of the situation, but, resolute as ever, he did not even take the trouble to enter into any explanation, lest by so doing he should arouse the suspicions of Munza, who was drinking in every word of the conversation. He hoped also, for reasons already explained, that the title of father, bestowed upon M. de Guéran, would pass unnoticed, or that in any case Kadjoro would not attach any importance to it.
He was not mistaken. The King evidently recalled to his mind the worn features of M. de Guéran, his long beard, his flowing locks, his countenance seared by severe illness, and, glancing at Madame de Guéran, young, charming, and with her colour heightened by the excitement under which she was labouring, he acknowledged to himself that she might well be the stranger's daughter.