na's host long before it reached the Place
of the Three Rifts?"

"The Place of the Three Rifts," growled the King. "_Hau_! It seems to
me we have heard overmuch of that tale. Here, however, is a new tale,
not an old one. What of the Red Death? Do these dogs lie?" pointing to
the grovelling Bakoni.

Lalusini glanced at them for a moment--the deepest scorn and disgust
upon her royal features--the disgust felt by a real magician for those
who would betray the mysteries of their nation's magic, and I, gazing,
felt I would rather encounter the most deadly frown that ever rested on
the face of the King himself than meet such a look upon that of my
_inkosikazi_, if directed against myself.

"They lie, Great Great One," she answered shortly.

Then the King turned such a deadly look upon the crouching slaves that
these cried aloud in their fear. They vociferated that they were
telling the truth, and more--that they themselves had witnessed the
operations of the Red Death among their own people; that Lalusini
herself and her mother, Laliwa, had actually brought about the
destruction of Tauane's predecessor by its means, and that that of
Tauane himself had been decreed--that it always meant the accession of a
new ruler.

Now I, sitting near Umzilikazi, knew well what was passing in his mind.
As he grew older he had become more and more sour and suspicious. Now
he was thinking that he himself was destined to die in blood, even as
that Great One, Tshaka, had died, that I, his second fighting induna,
his favourite war-councillor, should succeed him, and so win back not
only the seat of Matyobane, but the throne of Senzangakona for this
sorceress--this splendid daughter of Tshaka the Terrible. So, too,
would the death of Tshaka be avenged. And in Umzilikazi's look I could
read my own doom, and yet, _Nkose_, even at that moment not of myself
did I think. I had only eyes for the tall, shapely form of my beautiful
wife thus put upon her trial before the King and the whole nation. Then
Umzilikazi spoke.

"It seems we have spared too many slaves of this race of _Abatagati_.
Take these hence," pointing to the grovelling Bakoni. "The alligators
are hungry."

There was a roar of delight from all who heard. The slayers flung
themselves upon the shrieking slaves, dragging them away by the heels as
they rolled upon the ground imploring mercy, for they were too sick with
terror to stand upon their legs. Shouts of hate and w