aroused the intense ire of his
companions and all released Liola, now insensible, and sprang at me,
their ready knives flashing in the sunlight. I was compelled to fly, and
had it not been for Kona, who, standing some distance off watching the
reduction of Samory's throne to ashes, took in the situation at a glance,
sped in their direction, and ordered his men to stop and tell him the
cause, I should undoubtedly have lost my life. As their head-man his word
was law. Then, glancing at the inanimate form of Liola, who, having
fainted, had been left lying on the blood-stained pavement, he recognized
her as Goliba's daughter, and in a dozen words told his men that she was
the betrothed of the young Naba of Mo, and that I, his friend, had saved
her.

The savages, aghast at this statement, and recognizing how near they had
been to murdering the beloved of the Naba Omar, rushed towards me
penitent, urging that they might be forgiven, and declaring that their
conduct, under the circumstances, was excusable. They had, they said, no
idea that they would find in the harem of their enemy Samory the
betrothed of Mo's ruler, and I also was compelled to admit myself quite
as astounded as themselves. Therefore in brief words explanations and
forgiveness were exchanged and I rushed across, and with the ready help
of Kona and his men endeavoured to restore her to consciousness.

The dread of her horrible fate had caused her to faint, and it was a long
time ere we could bring her back to the knowledge of her surroundings.
Tenderly the Dagombas, who a few minutes before would have brutally
murdered her, carried her into one of the small luxuriantly-furnished
chambers of the harem, and at my request left me alone with her. Kona,
though fierce as a wild beast in war, was tender-hearted as a child where
undefended women were concerned, and would have remained, but as
commander of the forces now engaged in sacking the palace many onerous
duties devolved upon him. Therefore I was left alone with her.

Her eyes closed, her fair hair disarranged, her clothing torn and
blood-stained, she lay upon a soft divan, pale and motionless as one
dead. I chafed her tiny hands, and released her rich robe at the throat
to give her air, wondering by what strange chain of circumstances she had
come to be an inmate of the private apartments of our enemy Samory. At
last, however, her breast heaved and fell slowly once or twice, and
presently she opened her bea