But before Bambuk could descend the broad flight of steps leading from the veranda, the fetish performance was at an end and its chief actor had rushed off among the trees.
Evelyn felt a chill run through her body, though the air was hot and vapor–laden.
“Is M’Wagna the name of the King of Oku?” she asked.
“I believe so. I have been absent nearly eight months, as you are aware, but I haven’t heard of any change in the local dynasty.”
“Do you think it likely that he has ever visited England?”
“Most improbable,” said Hume. “He is an absolute savage. I have seen him only once, and I should be sorry to think that my life depended on his good will. But why did you imagine he might have been in England?”
“Because a native of that name came there with two others last August.”
“We have been visited by ju–ju men before, Charles,” put in Mrs. Hume.
“Yes. Generally they come begging for something they want—usually drugs—which they pretend to concoct themselves out of a snake’s liver or the gizzard of a bird. Don’t lay too much stress on Bambuk’s fright. He is a chicken–hearted fellow at the best. If there is really any likelihood of a native disturbance I shall send him with you and Miss Dane down the river——”