"Because the number of aspirants to your hand, Baroness, is lessened thereby. We are now only two, and our chances are better by one-third." "That is true!" said she, laughing. "I never thought of that. But do you think that we can manage without a doctor?" "Perfectly, my dear madam—perfectly. We shall never be ill." "It is very evident that you do not know Africa. However, I agree to all. We shall never be wounded; fever will treat us with every respect, and we shall be in better health than if we were in Paris. But you are too young for me to make this trip alone with you." "Desrioux is no older," said M. de Morin. "But his character is more staid." "Oh!" exclaimed M. Périères, "do not say that. What need have we to be serious? Do not reproach us for our gaiety and enthusiasm; they will serve to help us all to pass the time pleasantly out yonder. The originality of this expedition appeals directly to our peculiarities. We shall take with us into the very heart of the most uncivilized regions of Africa the true Parisian element. Apart, we should soon lose our spirits and our worldly ways and manners; but together, each with his eye on the other, and both desirous of amusing you, de Morin and I will continue still to be true men about town. In crossing the desert we shall do our best to suppose ourselves going from the Chaussé d'Antin to the cross-roads in the Champs Elysées, and we shall intentionally jumble up the great lakes of Southern Africa with the Auteuil pond. Please do not try to damp our spirits, or make us melancholy. If you did, you would never succeed, happily for us and for you." "There is a great deal of truth in what you say," replied Madame de Guéran, "but, all the same, I must have a companion rather more venerable than you two are." "Very well," said M. de Morin, "then we must go and find out some good-natured old soul." "He must be a doctor. Don't forget that." "I quite understand. One of your really respectable old family practitioners." "Not a bit of it! He would never be able to keep up with us; we should leave him on the road. He must not be more than forty or forty-five years of age." "We shall never find one of that sort," interrupted M. Périères. "At that age a doctor is in the zenith of his practice, if he is worth anything, and if he is not, it would not be prudent in us to take him, because, instead of being put to death by the Aborigines, we should perish at his hands. There would be no poetry about that." "I have hit upon a plan to meet every difficulty," suddenly exclaimed M. de Morin, who, for the last few moments, had evidently been following out some idea of his own. "I have him—just the man for us, not yet forty, a perfect gentleman, and a clever fellow who would have had a splendid practice if—" "If what?" was the exclamation. "If he did not gamble as if all the gambling in the world was concentrated in his own proper person. Does that alarm you. Baroness?"