“I lie beneath the foot of the Elephant,” he said; “but there is that, which, if I am suffered to go untrampled, the Elephant would gladly know.”
I looked around. No sign of Masuka, and it seemed to me that none within hearing would understand this tongue. Now the moment had come, now was Tauane about to try and purchase his life by disclosing Lalusini’s secret and mine, and I was resolved that he should not. Yet it was a terrible thing to stand before the majesty of the Great Great One, and deliberately deceive him—a terrible thing! But I turned the speech of Tauane into a mere prayer that he might not be crushed beneath the foot of the Elephant.
“The house of the Great King should be full of beautiful women,” he went on; “yet the most beautiful of all is not there.”
Yes, the air was getting hot now; but I rendered the words so as to mean that the most beautiful women of the Bakoni had already fallen to the King’s possession.
“The blood of the most beautiful of all is that of the Amazulu. There flows in her veins the pure blood of kings,” he continued.
“They are beautiful as those of the Amazulu, almost worthy to mingle with the pure blood of kings,” I translated.
“She is the Queen of the hidden mysteries of the Bakoni; beautiful as the mate of the Great King should be, and she has yet to be brought to the Elephant of the Amandebeli.”
“Some even are skilled in the hidden mysteries of the Bakoni; and all have been delivered to the Elephant of the Amandebeli,” I put it.
“The secret of her hiding-place is known to me alone,” he said. “She is there, safe and unharmed, awaiting the arrival of those who shall lead her before the King. She is of the Amazulu, and is called Lalusini.”
I started inwardly. Ha! The name! I might play tricks with the remainder, but the name! It sounded so plain—stood forth so unmistakably Zulu among the wretched monkey-like speech of these people, that I saw, or fancied I saw, a spasm of astonishment come into the King’s face. Then I saw light.