"I did not. It was a Malay who wrote them for me. I wanted Walter to think that I came from Zanzibar. I did not want him to know anything about San Francisco."
"Why not?"
"I sha'n't tell you. I have my own secrets. Again I ask why you question me in this way?"
"Because I am a friend of Lancaster's, and I want to prove his innocence."
"He is not innocent!" cried Balkis, with a lowering brow. "He killed my Walter. Tamaroo says he did not, and I have not made up my mind to harm him yet."
"Harm who--Tamaroo?"
"No; the man Lancaster. I can get rid of him in my own way."
"I see. You have something to do with Obi."
Balkis shuddered, and her face turned grey. "Hush! Say not that dread name," she said, looking round fearfully. "Why do you, a white man, talk of Obi? You are not of us--you know nothing of the fetish."
"No; but I have travelled in the West Indies. You know how to prepare the poisons that are used in connection with Obi"--again the negress shuddered--"so you propose to get rid of Lancaster by giving him poison. Well, that is better than being hanged. But how are you going to get Lancaster here? He has disappeared."