, you won't," I interrupted, through Sammy; "at any rate, not at
present. You will come with us."

The miserable Hassan reflected, then he asked:

"Lord Quatermain" (I remember the title, because it is the nearest I
ever got, or am likely to get, to the peerage), "if I furnish you with
the twenty bearers and accompany you for some days on your journey
inland, will you promise not to signal to your countrymen on the ship
and bring them ashore?"

"What do you think?" I asked of Stephen.

"Oh!" he answered, "I think I'd agree. This scoundrel has had a pretty
good dusting, and if once the _Crocodile_ people land, there'll be an
end of our expedition. As sure as eggs are eggs they will carry us off
to Zanzibar or somewhere to give evidence before a slave court. Also
nothing will be gained, for by the time the sailors get here, all these
rascals will have bolted, except our friend, Hassan. You see it isn't
as though we were sure he would be hung. He'd probably escape after all.
International law, subject of a foreign Power, no direct proof--that
kind of thing, you know."

"Give me a minute or two," I said, and began to reflect very deeply.

Whilst I was thus engaged several things happened. I saw twenty natives
being escorted towards us, doubtless the bearers who had been promised;
also I saw many others, accompanied by other natives, flying from the
village into the bush. Lastly, a third messenger arrived, who announced
that the _Maria_ was sailing away, apparently in charge of a prize-crew,
and that the man-of-war was putting about as though to accompany her.
Evidently she had no intention of effecting a landing upon what was,
nominally at any rate, Portuguese territory. Therefore, if anything was
to be done, we must act at once.

Well, the end of it was that, like a fool, I accepted Stephen's advice
and did nothing, always the easiest course and generally that which
leads to most trouble. Ten minutes afterwards I changed my mind, but
then it was too late; the _Crocodile_ was out of signalling distance.
This was subsequent to a conversation with Hans.

"Baas," said that worthy, in his leery fashion, "I think you have made a
mistake. You forget that these yellow devils in white robes who have
run away will come back again, and that when you return from up country,
they may be waiting for you. Now if the English man-of-war had destroyed
their town, and their slave-sheds, they might have gone somewhere else.
However,"