Perhaps she will come again tomorrow, he thought, as sleep swept overhim like a black wave. But when they dothe sticks will spring open and the sharpened ends will pierce theirguts and stab through their vitals. He could not walkunaided, and his hands and feet were swaddled in bandages. When they had eaten, the silver-headed councillor who had taken theminto the presence of the Monomatapa came to them.
Sir Francis did not reply but looked back steadily into Slow John'syellow eyes. Farewell, gentlemen. Gentlemen! he greeted them, as he entered and took his seat behindthe mahogany desk. No one else could do it.
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