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Updated: May 29, 2025
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.
"I want you," said Oscard. There was a little pause, an ominous silence, and Victor Durnovo slowly followed Oscard out of the room, leaving that ominous silence behind. "I leave for Msala to-night," said Oscard, when they were outside, "and you are coming with me." "I'll see you damned first!" replied Durnovo, with a courage born of Irish whisky.
In all eleven men were stricken, and of these ten died within three days. The eleventh recovered, but eventually remained at Msala. It was only on the evening of the third day that Jack and Guy found time to talk of the future. They had never left Durnovo's house, and on this third day they found time to dine together.
She pronounced it "ogly," and seemed to think that the story finished there. At all events, she added nothing to it. But Joseph thought fit to contribute a post scriptum. "You'd better tell 'em, mistress," he said, "that he tried to starve yer and them kids that he wanted to leave yer at Msala to be massacred by the tribes, only Mr. Oscard sent yer down 'ere. You'd better tell 'em that."
"Marie," he said, "I have had rather serious news from Mr. Durnovo." "Yes?" rather breathlessly. "It will not be safe for you to stay at Msala you must take the children down to Loango." "Does he say that?" she asked, in her rapid, indistinct English. "Who?" "Vic Mr. Durnovo." "No," replied Oscard, wondering at the question. "He does not say anything about me or the children?" persisted Marie.
To which sentiment two men at Msala bore generous testimony later on. The simple dinner was almost at an end, and it was at this time that Jocelyn Gordon began once more to dislike Durnovo. At first she had felt drawn towards him. Although he wore the dress-clothes rather awkwardly, there was something in his manner which reminded her vaguely of a gentleman.
He was obliged to make a dash for Msala, and he reached it, but the sickness was upon him." Maurice Gordon drew a sharp sigh of relief which was almost a sob. Marie was standing with her two hands on the pillow where Nestorius lay. Her deep eyes were fixed on the Englishman's sunburnt, strongly gentle face. "Did he send a message for me yes?" she said softly. "No," answered Oscard.
And yet there was no word from Durnovo no sign to suggest that he had even thought of securing the safety of his housekeeper and the few aged negroes in charge of Msala. This news only strengthened Oscard's determination to send Marie down to the coast, and he personally superintended their departure before taking his seat in the canoe for the up-river voyage.
"Ten miles above the camping-ground where we first met," he had told Meredith, "you will find a village where I have my headquarters. There is quite a respectable house there, with a a woman to look after your wants. When you have fixed things up at Loango, and have arranged for the dhows to meet my steamer, take up all your men to this village Msala is the name and send the boats back.
Wait there till we come." In due time the telegram came, via St. Paul de Loanda, announcing the fact that Oscard had agreed to join the expedition, and that Durnovo and he might be expected at Msala in one month from that time. It was not without a vague feeling of regret that Jack Meredith read this telegram.
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