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Updated: June 11, 2025
It was nearly dark when the little coast steamer secured by Maurice Gordon for the service turned her prow northward and steamed away. "The truth is," Durnovo took an early opportunity of saying to Oscard, "that my nerve is no longer up to this work. I should not care to undertake this business alone, despite my reputation on the coast.
Missis Marie was telling me about that awful scourge that, sir. No, the poor chaps are wide-awake enough. Groanin', and off their heads too, mostly." "Have you called Mr. Oscard?" "No, sir." "Call him and Mr. Durnovo." "Met Mr. Durnovo, sir, goin' out as I came in." In a few moments Jack joined Durnovo and Oscard, who were talking together on the terrace in front of the house.
The river was the Ogowe, and the man who cursed it was Victor Durnovo, employe of the Loango Trading Association, whose business it was at that season to travel into the interior of Africa to buy, barter, or steal ivory for his masters. He was a small-faced man, with a squarely aquiline nose and a black moustache, which hung like a valance over his mouth.
It was raining steadily, and the atmosphere had that singular feeling of total relaxation and limpness which is only to be felt in the rain-ridden districts of Central Africa. "Take care of yourself," said Oscard gruffly as Jack stepped into the canoe. "All right." "And bring back Durnovo with you." Jack Meredith looked up with a vague smile.
Durnovo came back into the centre of the room and stood by the writing-table. His attitude was that of a man holding a whip over a cowering dog. He took up his hat and riding-whip with a satisfied little laugh, as if the dog had cringingly done his bidding. "Besides," he said, with a certain defiance of manner, "I may succeed without any of that eh?"
He walked down to the water's edge, where he was presently joined by Joseph with a lantern. The two boats came on to the sloping shore with a grating sound, and by the light of the waving lantern Oscard saw Durnovo and Jack land from the same boat. The three men walked up to the house together. Marie was at the door, and bowed her head gravely in answer to Jack's salutation.
Victor Durnovo stretched out his legs and made himself quite at home; but Jocelyn did not sit down. On the contrary, she remained standing, persistently and significantly. "Maurice gone away?" he inquired. "Yes." "And left you all alone," in a tone of light badinage, which fell rather flat, on stony ground. "I am accustomed to being left," she answered gravely. "I don't quite like it, you know."
Given the climate of Western Africa and the mental irritation thereof, added to a lack of education and the natural vice inherent in man, and you have Victor Durnovo. Nestorius the shameless stretched out his little bare limbs and turned half over on his side. He looked from one face to the other with the grave wonder that was his. He had never been taken much notice of.
Durnovo drank the wine at one gulp and set the glass down. "Ah!" he said, "that does a chap good." "Does it now?" exclaimed Maurice Gordon with mock surprise. "Well, I'll just try." The manner in which he emptied his glass was quite different, with a long, slow drawing-out of the enjoyment, full of significance for the initiated.
That is what we are doing with Durnovo. His little idiosyncrasies will turn in witness against him later on." She shook her head in disbelief. "Your practice and your theory do not agree," she said. There was a little pause; then she turned to him gravely. "Have you been vaccinated?" she asked. "In the days of my baptism, wherein I was made " "No doubt," she interrupted impatiently, "but since?
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