"Is it a fact, as we have been told, that the palace is on the eastern frontier of the kingdom?"
"It is at the foot of a lofty and impassable mountain."
Our interpreter, no doubt, meant that mountain which the latest
African explorers call Mount Maccorly or M'Caroli.
"And behind that mountain," I asked, "are there others?"
"Yes, larger still, so large that they hide the sky. Their tops appear quite blue, and at night a great noise may be heard coming from their bowels, like the sound produced by a hundred torrents falling together from a lofty height."
"Those are the falls spoken of as being at the north end of Lake Albert," said de Morin to me. "The information given us by Ali leads to the inference that the residence of Walinda is situated at the foot of the Blue Mountains, in Lat. 2° N., and that Lake Albert is immediately behind those mountains. The noise heard by our interpreter evidently proceeds from the cascades, falls, or cataracts on the eastern shores of the lake, at the same elevation as Magungo, and called by certain geographers the Murchison Falls. All these details are valuable, for I certainly think," added de Morin, somewhat bitterly, "that we are now called upon to work on behalf of M. de Guéran by throwing him, as soon as possible, into the arms of his wife."
"My dear fellow," said I, "our first duty is to rescue our fellow-countryman. Suppose, for a moment, that we did not know him, and that, instead of being the husband of our companion, he were a stranger to us, should we hesitate for a moment to go to his rescue?"
"No," replied de Morin quickly, "certainly not. All Europeans who venture into these parts are mutually bound to aid and protect each other. Nevertheless," he added, after a momentary pause, "during the last few seconds, since the existence of M. de Guéran has been established, a queer, novel, perhaps unworthy idea has entered my head and worries me."
"Let us have your idea, by all means. Possibly I have one very like it."
"I guessed as much. You are asking yourself, as I am, whether M. de Guéran is really a prisoner with the Queen of the Walindis, endowed by common report with so much beauty, this Venus in ebony, as Delange will call her? You are tempted to believe that he is staying by her side of his own free will, and that he does not half like the idea of an expedition from Europe coming to interfere with his love-making?"