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Updated: June 11, 2025
"But," he said courteously, "I suppose you find these coloured chaps just as good when they have once got into your ways?" "Oh yes," muttered Durnovo. He was reading the letter. "Maurice Gordon," he continued, "says you are travelling for pleasure just looking about you. What do you think of it?" He indicated the dismal prospect with a harsh laugh. "A bit suggestive of Hell," he went on, "eh?
"Ask him," said Oscard, "whether he knows that there is an Englishman with a large force on the top of a mountain far to the east." Durnovo translated, and the man answered with a smile. In reply to some further question the negro launched into a detailed narrative, to which Durnovo listened eagerly. "He says," said the latter to Oscard, "that the Plateau is in possession of the Masais.
In that part of Africa which lies within touch of the Equator, life is essentially a struggle. There is hunger about, and where hunger is the emotions will be found also. Now Jack Meredith was a past-master in the concealment of these, and, as such, came to Victor Durnovo in the guise of a new creation.
The letter is in duplicate, sent by two good messengers, who go by different routes. When Jocelyn looked up, dry-lipped, breathless, Nala was standing before her, beaming with self-importance. "Who gave you this?" "Marie at Msala." "Who is she?" "Oh Mr. Durnovo's woman at Msala. She keeps his house." "But this letter is for Mr. Durnovo," cried Jocelyn, whose fear made her unreasonably angry.
Then the black clouds split up like a rent cloth, and showed behind them, not Heaven, but the living fire of Hell. The thunder crashed out in sharp reports like file-firing at a review. With one accord the men ceased rowing and crouched down in the canoe. Durnovo shouted to them, his face livid with fury. But for some moments his voice was quite lost.
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.
"Then," cried Jocelyn, with flaming cheeks, "I will tell you. You were to be admitted into the Simiacine scheme by Mr. Durnovo if you could persuade or force me to marry him." None of them had foreseen this. It had come about so strangely, and yet so easily, in the midst of their first greeting. "Yes," admitted Maurice, "that was it." "And what answer did you give?" asked Jocelyn.
"Nothing. People in books would mount on a very high pinnacle of virtue and cast off Mr. Durnovo and all his works; but it is much more practical to make what use we can of him. That is a worldly-wise, nineteenth-century way of looking at it; we cannot do without him." The contemplativeness of nicotine was upon Guy Oscard. "Umph!" he grunted.
Thus it came about that Guy Oscard found a little army awaiting him, and to Maurice Gordon was the credit given. Victor Durnovo simply kept out of the way. The news that an expedition was being got together to go to the relief of Jack Meredith never reached him in his retreat.
"And I am afraid I have some bad news for you. Victor Durnovo, your master " "Yes tell quickly!" "He is dead. We buried him at Msala. He died in my arms." At this moment Joseph gave a little gasp and turned away to the window, where he stood with his broad back turned towards them. Maurice Gordon, as white as death, was leaning against the table. He quite forgot himself.
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