Captain Lister put down his pipe; Lieutenant Mumford lit a cigarette. The Arab, or rather half-caste, approached confidently and saluted. The major looked up.
"Have you any reason to give," he said quietly, "why you should not be taken out and shot?"
The man stared open-mouthed at the speaker. His face appeared to turn a bronze-green, and his lips twitched. The major was watching him intently.
"I don't--I don't understand, master," he stammered at length.
"Ah! Let us begin at the beginning. Do you know one Castro, a Portuguese, who was in Kisumu for some days before we started?"
The man, with a strong effort of will, had mastered the agitation into which the major's sudden question had thrown him.
"He is going to brazen it out," said that observant officer to himself; and after the slightest perceptible pause, the Arab replied:
"I do not know him, sir."
"Very well."
He beckoned to Mbutu, who had been standing with his face concealed by the flap of the tent. The Muhima came out into the sunlight.