than by
carrying them into the interior of the country.

The man then added, speaking in a mysterious manner, that there was one
more subject on which he wished to give them warning. When pressed to
mention it, he appeared reluctant to do so.

He was at last prevailed upon to be more communicative; when he
proclaimed his opinion, that their companion, Colin, would never leave
the desert.

"Why is that?" asked Harry.

"Bom-by he be kill. De sheik kill um."

Although partly surmising his reasons for having formed this opinion,
Harry urged him to further explain himself.

"Ef Golah see de moder ob de piccaninny gib dat lad one lilly fig,--one
drop ob drink, he kill um, sartin-sure. I see, one, two,--seb'ral more
see. Golah no fool. Bom-by he see too, and kill um bof,--de lad an' de
piccaninny moder."

Harry promised to warn his companion of the danger, and save him before
the suspicions of Golah should be aroused.

"No good, no good," said the Krooman.

In explanation of this assertion, Harry was told that, should the young
Scotchman refuse any favor from the woman, her wounded vanity would
change her liking to the most bitter hatred, and she would then contrive
to bring down upon him the anger of Golah,--an anger that would
certainly be fatal to its victim.

"Then what must I do to save him?" asked Harry.

"Noting," answered the Krooman. "You noting can do. Ony bid him be good
man, and talk much,--pray to God. Golah wife lub him, and he sure muss
die."

Harry informed the sailor and Terence of what the Krooman had told him,
and the three took counsel together.

"I believes as how the darkey be right," said Bill. "Of course, if the
swab Goliarh larns as 'ow one av 'is wives ha' taken a fancy to Master
Colly, 't will be all up wi' the poor lad. He will be killed,--and
mayhap eaten too, for that matter."

"Like enough," assented Terence. "And should he scorn her very
particular attentions, her resentment might be equally as dangerous as
Golah's. I fear poor Colin has drifted into trouble."

"What ye be afther sayin' about the woman," said Bill, "'minds me o' a
little story I wunce heeard whin I was a boy. I read it in a book called
the Bible. It was about a young man, somethin' like Master Colly,
barrin' his name was Joseph. A potter's wife tuck a fancy to him; but
Joseph, bein' a dacent an' honest youngster, treted her wid contimpt,
an' came to great grief by doin' that same. You must 'ave read that
sto