he discovered, to his inexpressible
amazement, that he _was_ no other than their old friend Mamba--the
crocodile--whom they had left with his mother and the others in the cave
many days before.

"How is it possible," he exclaimed, while dressing his wounds, "that he
can have arrived at the same time with us, for we started before him and
have travelled fast?"

Laihova explained that Mamba was one of the fleetest men in the island,
and that he could easily have passed them though starting later than
they did. But why he had come, and why he had passed instead of
overtaking and travelling with them, he could not even guess.

As most of poor Mamba's wounds were bruises, and the few cuts were not
deep, his four friends raised him and carried him quickly into a
neighbouring house, the door of which was immediately shut. Laihova
explained that it was the house of a personal friend of his own, who was
also a Christian, but secretly, for fear of the Queen.

Here Mamba was sufficiently brought round by Mark's ministrations to be
able to sit up and answer questions, but at first he seemed disinclined
to speak, and then gave evasive replies.

"Why this secrecy, my friend?" asked Laihova, in the native language.

"If I could answer," said Mamba, "there would be no secrecy."

"True, and I would not pry into your secrets," returned Laihova, "but we
would help you if we can."

"You cannot help me," returned Mamba, in a somewhat sad tone. "I have
business in hand which requires haste. I have tried to keep clear of
you to prevent delay, and to avoid mixing myself up in your dangers, for
you are in danger here. I would not have come near the town at all, but
I required to make a purchase in the market, and hoped to do so without
being recognised. Unfortunately an old enemy saw me. He fell on the
device of cutting off the corner of his own lamba, and then, raising the
cry of thief, pretended that I had done it. I ran. You know my speed
of foot. I trusted to that instead of trusting to my God. They
surrounded me. You know the end."

While Mamba was yet speaking a loud knocking was heard at the door, and
a stern voice demanded admittance.

On hearing it Mamba leaped from the couch on which he had been laid as
if nothing were the matter with him. He glanced hastily round. The
owner of the house seemed to divine his wishes, for he pointed to a
small window which opened into what appeared to be a court at the back
of