The king was lounging on a divan; he had been talking with two elderly men seated on rugs before him. They regarded us keenly as the king asked them to withdraw. When they had gone, Christopher closed and locked the door, and stood with his back to it. The surprised and curious scrutiny of the king was on him, passing down his grotesque figure. From Christopher he turned to me.
“What do you wish?” he inquired.
“To serve you, Sire.”
“How?”
“Secretly, by finding out many things, by learning the truth; and in any other way.”
“I have men for that.”
“You have Lentala also, Sire. She knows that you need us, and that we will serve you intelligently, faithfully, and without fear.”
“Without fear of whom?”
“Every one of account has enemies, Sire.”
“Have I any? I want no guessing.”