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Updated: June 14, 2025
The rowers said nothing, but they lingered on the bank and watched Durnovo's face anxiously. When he took his seat in the canoe they looked protestingly up to the sky. Durnovo said something to them rapidly, and they laid their paddles to the water. Scarcely had the boat disappeared in the bend of the river before the rain broke.
There was a pause of considerable duration, at the end of which Durnovo produced a paper from his pocket and threw it down. "That's good business," he said. "Two thousand tusks," murmured Maurice Gordon. "Yes, that's good. Through Akmed, I suppose?" "Yes. We can outdo these Arabs at their own trade." An evil smile lighted up Durnovo's sallow face.
The next morning brought further rumours of approaching danger, and it seemed certain that this news must have filtered through Durnovo's fortified camp further up the river. This time the report was more definite. There were Arabs leading the tribes, and rumour further stated that an organised descent on Msala was intended.
Moreover, he immediately began to realise the benefit of being waited upon by an intelligent European, for Joseph took off his coat, turned up his sleeves, and proceeded to cook such a dinner as Durnovo had not tasted for many months. There was wine also, and afterwards a cigar of such quality as appealed strongly to Durnovo's West Indian palate.
Victor Durnovo was still at work superintending the discharge of the baggage and stores from the large trading-canoes. They heard the shouting and chattering before coming in sight of the camp, and one voice raised angrily above the others. "Is that Durnovo's voice?" asked Meredith. "Yes," answered his companion curtly. It was a new voice which Meredith had not heard before.
We are only waiting for Durnovo to join, and then we shall make a start. Of course, somebody else could have come down for the quinine." "Yes." He glanced at her beneath his lashes before going on, "But, as Durnovo's nerves were a little shaken, it was just as well, don't you know, to get him out of it all." "I suppose he got himself out of it all?" she said quietly. "Well to a certain extent.
Guy Oscard was sitting on the natural terrace in front of Durnovo's house at Msala, and Marie attended to his simple wants with that patient dignity which suggested the recollection of better times, and appealed strongly to the manhood of her fellow-servant Joseph. Oscard was not good at the enunciation of those small amenities which are supposed to soothe the feelings of the temporarily debased.
Victor Durnovo's dark face changed slightly; his eyes bilious, fever-shot, unhealthy took a new light. "Ah!" he answered, "are you a friend of Maurice Gordon's?" There was another question in this, an unasked one; and Victor Durnovo was watching for the answer. But the face he watched was like a delicately carved piece of brown marble, with a courteous, impenetrable smile.
"I thought," she said, "that you had gone back to the expedition?" And Victor Durnovo's boundless conceit substituted "feared" for "thought." "Not without coming to say good-bye," he answered. "It is not likely."
There was a little Gourkha man up in Cabul taught me a trick it's as easy as killing a chicken but you want a man wi' a long neck just such a neck as Durnovo's." "But what harm has the man done you," asked Meredith, "that you think so affectionately of his neck?" "No harm, sir, but we're just like two cats on a wall, watchin' each other and hating each other like blue poison.
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