Samory, the truculent old Arab, escaped. By some means he eluded us in the dark intricacies of that subterranean way, and groping along in a similar manner to ourselves, he evidently fled to the forest, for he has since collected the scattered remnant of his nomadic bands, and although he has never since troubled us, yet he now and then commits depredations on the borders of the English and French spheres of influence. Ere long he will overstep the bounds, and one Power or another will certainly send a punitive expedition to crush and humiliate him, as they have crushed the arrogant Prempeh of Ashanti.

During many months the means by which the theft of the Treasure of the Sanoms had been effected remained an inscrutable mystery, and it was only on the day previous to my departure from the mysterious land for England, or rather more than six months ago, that the problem was solved and in a manner entirely unexpected.

In preparation for the annual feast in honour of the Crocodile-god I had occasion to go secretly and alone to the submerged Treasure-house, in order to obtain certain jewels which tradition decreed should be worn on that day by the reigning sovereign. I had emptied the lake, unsealed the cover of the well-like aperture, locked the mechanism fatal to intruders, descended and obtained what I sought, when on ascending I was dismayed to find water pouring in upon me in increasing volumes. Upwards I climbed, struggling desperately against the inrushing flood thundering down upon me, and was aghast to find, when I gained the surface, that the sluice-gates that held back the waters feeding the lake had been opened, and that it was rapidly refilling. Instantly it occurred to me to replace the cover, and in breathless haste I succeeded in screwing it down and dashing for my life back to the bank, the water being up to my arm-pits ere I reached it.

When next second I glanced upward to the mound where the mechanism was concealed, I saw standing thereon the wild-looking figure of a woman with her soiled, tattered garments fluttering in the wind.

Her long scraggy arms were raised high above her head, and she was crying aloud to me.

Without a moment's hesitation I dashed forward up the hill to secure the person who had apparently discovered the secret of the Treasure-house, but on approaching her closely I suddenly halted in astonishment.

The wretched, fiendish-looking virago, upon whose face were the most hideous distortions of insanity I had ever witnessed, was none other than the once-powerful tyrannical autocrat, the Great White Queen!

Across her narrow, withered brow, brown almost as a toad's back, a single wisp of thin grey hair strayed; in her eyes was the unmistakeable light of madness, while the nails of her outstretched fingers were as sharp and long as the talons of some beast of prey. So weird and repulsive-looking was she that I stood before her dumbfounded.

"Ah!" she shrieked to me exultantly, in a harsh, rasping voice, "I have killed them—drowned them all, the accursed spies and renegades! The traitor Kouaga captured me as I fled for life from the city-gate, and promising me release and safe escort from this land of evil spirits in return for the secret of the Treasure-house, I recklessly gave it to him, on condition that his armed men should assist me to recover my lost position as Queen of Mo. I promised to forget the past and take him back into my favour. But, securing my jewels, he conveyed them to his Arab master at Koussan, and left me alone, deposed and ruined. May Zomara crush and torture him, the traitor!" Then, turning with wild gesture towards the lake, now a great sheet of placid water, her hands clutched convulsively, her eyes starting as if she saw, in her disordered imagination, a host of her enemies, she cried: "This, at last, is the hour of my revenge! I have drawn the lever, and while they were below with you they were drowned like rats in a hole!" And she gave vent to a short, dry laugh, exclaiming: "They refused to assist me to tear the usurper from the Emerald Throne, so I have killed them. My work is finished! I have reigned and have been deposed; I have striven for the people, and have been rewarded by their curses; I have——"

At this moment, determined to carry her back to the city, I sprang forward and gripped her lean, bony arms. With colossal strength, engendered by insanity, she fought and bit, shrieking and showering imprecations upon me, it requiring all my strength to hold her; but presently she became quiet again, uttering long strings of rapid incoherent words that plainly showed the hopeless state of her mind.

Thus walking, we gained the edge of the lake, and having passed the cascade were skirting the river when, with a suddenness that took me completely by surprise, she slipped from my grasp, and with a wild exclamation dashed towards the warm, oozy bank.

Next second I noticed that the waters were alive with the sacred reptiles, but ere I could reach her she threw up her long, thin arms, and uttering an unearthly yell, plunged in.

A dozen hideous, hungry jaws snapped viciously as she cast herself amongst them, and an instant later where, with a shriek of horror, she disappeared for ever beneath the waters, the swiftly-flowing current was tinged red by long streaks of human blood. In an excess of religious fervour she had sacrificed herself to her god Zomara.

This is no apologue. Little there remains to tell. Under the beneficent rule of Omar and Liola power, prosperity and contentment have now returned to the mysterious ancient realm, within which I have been the first stranger to set foot. As principal official of the ruler of the land that, although familiar to me, is still a mystery to the Royal Geographical Society, I left for England a few months ago on a mission to the greatest White Queen, Victoria, offering her assistance in her effort to crush the cruel sway of our mutual enemies the Ashantis. Our offer was cordially accepted, and the successful issue of the campaign which caused the downfall of Prempeh is now well known. Before returning to resume my duties as Governor of Mo, the far-off spectral City in the Clouds, into which no stranger may enter, I have, however, written down, at the instigation of the publishers whose name this volume bears upon its title-page, this plain tale of travel, treason and treasure as a record of the first successful journey to the high-up, inaccessible land of the Naya, the once-dreaded Great White Queen.

THE END.