In the comfortable dining-room of Mr. Gillespie's bungalow a merry party
was assembled. At the right hand of Mr. Gillespie sat a handsome,
well-preserved lady, who was fifty and looked forty-five. At the other
end of the table, beside the hostess, was our friend Mr. Halliday, fresh
and florid, evidently in the best of health. His neighbour on the right
was a slim young girl in black; hers was a tall, well-set-up young man
of twenty-five. Opposite these two, in due sequence, were a girl who
might have been seventeen, and a youth a year or two older, so much like
her that no one could have doubted they were brother and sister.
Laughter rang round the table; everybody seemed at the top of
cheerfulness, except the girl in black. Even she smiled at a remark
addressed to her by Mr. Halliday. There was a pause in the conversation
as they devoted themselves to the sweets, which included a wonderful
confection of native pine-apples. Then the lady next to Mr. Gillespie,
in slow level tones, and with the clear enunciation and scarcely
perceptible burr of an educated Scotswoman, said--
"He's a dear boy, I'm sure. We could read so well between the lines of
his letters that he thought me a very designing woman----"
"A Delilah, Cousin Sylvia," said Mr. Halliday.
"You'd be the better for having your hair cut, Cousin David. I
shouldn't allude to such a personal matter if I didn't hope that Mrs.
Gillespie would back me up. _I've_ done my best to improve you, and
failed; perhaps public opinion will do some good."
"Don't worry, Mrs. Burtenshaw," said Mr. Gillespie. "He'll get a
thorough crop before he goes up country, where barbers are unknown."
"But it won't matter then, where there's no one to see him.... It was
plain John thought his father would marry me----"
"The other way about, cousin," Mr. Halliday interposed. "He wouldn't
suspect me of all men of fortune hunting."
"Listen to him!" exclaimed Mrs. Burtenshaw, drawing herself up with an
affectation of injured dignity. "If any man wanted to marry me it could
only be for my money, you see. As I was saying, John quite expects to
be presented with a step-mother, and resents it, like all young things.
Joe there wouldn't speak to me for a week when I married poor
Burtenshaw. It's a nice kind of jealousy, don't you think so, Mrs.
Gillespie?"
"Just like a dog's," said Mrs. Gillespie, in a tone that made every one
laugh. "When we first came out we had a collie that couldn't see my
husband put his arm round me without whining to be petted."
"John will be flabbergasted when he sees us," said the older of the two
young men, referred to by his mother as Joe.
"Yes, wasn't it funny that he should come across them in the wilds of
Africa, and rescue Poll from a game-pit without either of them knowing
they were cousins?" said Helen, his sister. "It's quite a romance."
"Doesn't he know the relationship now?" asked Mrs. Gillespie.
"No," said Mr. Halliday, with a chuckle. "I asked him in one of my
letters whether he had seen anything of the Brownes. You see, they
talked of settling here, before they came into this fortune."
"That's all over now, of course," said Mr. Gillespie.
"I'm not so sure," said Joe Browne. "The people at home were very nice,
and all that, but they're too stiff and starched after what we've been
used to; wear high collars and kid gloves. I don't fancy Poll and I
could settle down to that sort of thing."
"And I don't want you to," said Mrs. Burtenshaw. "I don't believe in
healthy young men loafing about, and I tell my boys they'll have to work
for their living just as if I were a poor woman."
"Capital!" said Mr. Gillespie. "And when they see what John has been
doing I warrant they'll settle down as neighbours. There'll be quite a
little colony of Scotsmen about Alloway soon, for I've no doubt you've
Scotch blood in you, Miss Ferrier?"
"Diluted, Mr. Gillespie," said the girl in black. "My grandfather was a
Scotsman, but he married a Frenchwoman--Canadian French, of course. Do
you really think my brother will settle here?"
"Well, I can't exactly say," was Mr. Gillespie's cautious reply. "It
seems very probable from what John says in his letters. Don't you like
the prospect?"
"Oh, I shall live with Charley, of course; and if it's really as nice as
he says--there isn't any real danger, is there?"
"A lion among the ladies!" cried Mr. Halliday, and they all laughed,
Said Mohammed's quotation being common property among them. "I think
you'll find it all right, my dear," he added in his fatherly way. "I
dare say John and your brother between them have exterminated the lions
in our neighbourhood by this time."
"I think Hilda was very plucky to come all this way alone," said Helen.
"_I_ shouldn't have had the courage."
"But I wasn't really alone," said Hilda Ferrier. "The people on the
_Mauretania_ were very kind, and I met you on the _Palawan_, you see. I
was thinking more of the natives than of lions: of course, you can shoot
lions."
"And you can shoot men, my dear," said Mr. Halliday.
"There, now you've frightened her," said Mrs. Burtenshaw, as a startled
look crossed the girl's face. "What an absurd man you are, David!
You've told us over and over again that the natives are perfectly
friendly."
"So we found them, Cousin Sylvia. We had no trouble except with the
thieves of our own safari. I grudge them the rifles they stole, that's
a fact. I suppose that villain Juma has never dared to show his face in
Nairobi again, Gillespie?"
"Not to my knowledge. He wouldn't bring your rifles if he did."
"Why did he steal them, then?" asked Helen.
"To shoot with, of course," said Oliver Browne. "What a question!"
"I thought he might want to sell them, or pawn them, or something."
"We've no pawn-shops in Nairobi," said Mr. Gillespie, laughing, "though
I'm sorry to say we've some Indian money-lenders who've got their clutch
on some of our poorer settlers. Juma won't try to sell the rifles here
at any rate. I suppose he stole them to shoot with, as your brother
says, though I confess it's a little odd. He has been a porter for
several years past, and it isn't like porters to give up their trade.
Perhaps he has taken a fancy for being independent, and has settled down
somewhere with others of his kidney. The rifles would be very useful to
him in getting food. He's a scamp, though; for he has unquestionably
deserted his wife, who has turned out a capital laundress, John says."
"He hasn't been back to the farm?" asked Mr. Halliday.
"John hasn't said so. I think my notion must be correct, because the
man has led an adventurous life, and the only surprising thing is that
he should go back to it after years of portering. I believe he once
belonged to a party of Arab ivory-dealers--I can't call them hunters,
for all they did was to buy, or steal, ivory from the Wanderobbo north
of Kenya. They were smashed up a few years ago by a tribe of Embe or
Rendili, and Juma was said to be the only one who escaped. He has
always been a good porter, except for his temper, and people have put up
with that because of his strength and ingenuity.... This is cheese from
John's dairy, Mrs. Burtenshaw; I can recommend it."
At this point a black servant entered, carrying a letter on a salver.
"A letter from John himself," said Mr. Gillespie, glancing at the
envelope. "Now we shall hear all the news."
He broke the envelope and cast his eye over the contents, the others
waiting in silence to hear what he had to say. He looked up in a moment
and gave a quick glance at Mr. Halliday. Then, still holding the
letter, he smiled and said--
"Shall we go into the other room, Mother, and digest this letter with
some coffee?"
"Very well, my dear," said Mrs. Gillespie, rising. No one could have
detected from her placid face and natural movements that she was aware
that something was wrong. Oliver, who was nearest to the door, held it
while the ladies passed out, and stood back for the elder men to follow.
"Go on, my boy," said Mr. Gillespie. "I'll look out some cigars I want
you to try; be with you in a moment."
He took Mr. Halliday by the arm as he was passing, shut the door, and
putting the letter into his hand, said--
"Read that!"