"Mr. Barkworth," said Tom, "the boy I saved from the Portuguese came to me to-day and told me of a diabolical plot between his master and the dragoman of the expedition to lead my uncle into a trap. What can be done to warn him?"
"What! What! Ambush Jack Burnaby! Ridiculous nonsense! Never heard of such a thing. More like a bit out of Henty than a real thing. H'm! Come now, what did the young rascal say?"
Tom repeated the story, giving, as nearly as he could, the minutest details told him by Mbutu.
Mr. Barkworth took out his handkerchief and blew his nose. "H'm! Cock-and-bull story altogether. I know these natives. Taradiddles, sir!"
"But why doubt the boy, sir? His story was so circumstantial, and he looked so earnest and truthful."
"H'm! What do you say about it, mossoo?"
"It is extraordinary, certainly," replied the Frenchman. "Could we not send for the boy? He would not try any tricks with me."
"Right! we'll have the boy. Fine thing--a knowledge of their gibberish. Hi, you there! Go down at once to Major Burnaby's bungalow and bring back the black boy there. Clutch him by the hair or he'll wriggle away. I know them."
One of the servants disappeared, and soon returned with Mbutu. The boy had been waked out of a sound sleep, and looked rather scared, but a few words in his own tongue from the missionary soon put him at ease, and he answered all his questions readily. After a searching examination Father Chevasse turned to Mr. Barkworth, saying:
"The boy's story is consistent in every part. I think he is telling the truth."