"There lie those who dared to prophecy falsely to the king! That was a good word of thine, Mopo, which taught me to set the snare for them; yet methought I saw thee start when Nobela, queen of the witch-doctresses, switched death on thee.

Well, they are dead, and the land breathes more freely; and for the evil which they have done, it is as yonder dust, that shall soon sink again to earth and there be lost." Thus he spoke, then ceased--for lo! something moved beneath the cloud of dust, something broke a way through the heap of the dead.

Slowly it forced its path, pushing the slain this way and that, till at length it stood upon its feet and tottered towards us--a thing dreadful to look on.

The shape was the shape of an aged woman, and even through the blood and mire I knew her.

It was Nobela, she who had doomed me, she whom but now I had smitten to earth, but who had come back from the dead to curse me! On she tottered, her apparel hanging round her in red rags, a hundred wounds upon her face and form.