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Updated: May 28, 2025
There was too much time for thought and too little to think about. This girl only had the past, and her past was all comprised in a few months the few months still known at Loango as the Simiacine year. She had lapsed into a bad habit of thinking that her life was over, that the daylight of it had waned, and that there was nothing left now but the grey remainder of the evening.
"Every moment wasted adds to the risk of our being superseded. I sail for Loango in a fortnight; will you come with me?" "Yes." "Shall I take a passage for you?" "Yes." Durnovo held out his hand. "Good-bye," he said. "Shall I always find you here when I want you?" "Yes stay, though! I shall be going away for a few days. Come to-morrow to luncheon, and we will settle the preliminaries."
The South-west Coast liners of these companies run to Gaboon and then to Koutonu, up near Lagos, then back to Gaboon, and down as far as Loango, calling on their way home at the other ports in Congo Francais. They are mainly carriers of import goods, because they run to time, and on the South-west Coast unless Time has an ameliorating touch of Eternity in it you cannot get export goods off.
To tell the truth, he was not very much prepossessed in Maurice's favour, and it was with a doubtful mind that he turned his steps towards the little house in the forest between Loango and the sea. The room was the first surprise that awaited him, its youthful mistress the second. Guy Oscard was rather afraid of most women. He did not understand them, and probably he despised them.
It is possible that he was conscious of the sidelong scrutiny which he was undergoing. "And you you have been all right?" she said lightly. "Oh, yes," with a laugh. "I have not brought the infection down to Loango; you need not be afraid of that." For a moment she looked as if she were going to explain that she was not "afraid of that."
She had probably saved the life of Jack Meredith, and in doing so had only succeeded in sending him away from her. Only an honest man doing his duty. When Jack Meredith said that there was not another man in Africa who could make his way from Loango to the Simiacine Plateau he spoke no more than the truth.
From the Abbe Durand, librarian of the Paris Geographical Society, we learn: 1. That Loango is in the Province of Cacongo; 2. That Cacongo is considered a province of Loango; 3. That Cacongo forms a kingdom of itself, with a capital, Ringwele. The name of the late king was "Dom Joao, Capitao Mempolo," and, though he had died some years ago, he was not buried, for the usual reasons, in early 1874.
In Loango there is a tribe called Babonko, which was described by Battell in 1625, in the work entitled "Purchas his Pilgrimes," in the following terms: "To the north-east of Mani-Kesock are a kind of little people called Matimbas; which are no bigger than boyes of twelve yeares old, but very thicke, and live only upon flesh, which they kill in the woods with their bows and darts.
This style of dividing time, which is common throughout Pagan West Africa, is commonly styled a week: thus the Abbe Proyart tells us that the Loango week consists of four days, and that on the fourth the men "rest" by hunting and going to market. Tuckey also recognizes the "week of four days," opposed to the seven days' week of the Gold Coast.
She could not say that she had been forced by a sudden breakdown of her brother's health to leave Loango while Jack Meredith's fate was still wrapped in doubt. She could not tell Lady Cantourne that all her world was in Africa that she was counting the days until she could go back thither.
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