“I know where it is hid,” said Werper. “Promise, and I will lead you to it—if ten loads is enough?”
Abdul Mourak had ceased to laugh. He was eyeing the Belgian intently. The fellow seemed sane enough—yet ten loads of gold! It was preposterous. The Abyssinian thought in silence for a moment.
“Well, and if I promise,” he said. “How far is this gold?”
“A long week’s march to the south,” replied Werper.
“And if we do not find it where you say it is, do you realize what your punishment will be?”
“If it is not there I will forfeit my life,” replied the Belgian. “I know it is there, for I saw it buried with my own eyes. And more—there are not only ten loads, but as many as fifty men may carry. It is all yours if you will promise to see me safely delivered into the protection of the English.”
“You will stake your life against the finding of the gold?” asked Abdul.
Werper assented with a nod.
“Very well,” said the Abyssinian, “I promise, and even if there be but five loads you shall have your freedom; but until the gold is in my possession you remain a prisoner.”
“I am satisfied,” said Werper. “Tomorrow we start?”