It is a curious fact, but three voices at the same moment gave vent to the same ejaculation, which blended together and formed one big round "O!" "I should be an encumbrance upon you." "You would be a great help and counsel to me, Sir James, and of course take all the responsibility off my shoulders." "Humph! Yes. Well, that's true," said Sir James. "But you, Dean--now, sir, be honest--I want the simple truth." "I always do tell the truth, uncle," said the boy, rather surlily; "at least, I always try to." "Then let's have it out now, sir, without a shadow of a doubt. Let there be no trying. Wouldn't you rather that I stayed at home?" "No, uncle," came sharply, and almost before the question was uttered. "Now you, Mark," cried Sir James. There was silence again for what seemed a minute, but probably was not half. "Well, sir, I'm waiting." There was another pause, and then as the baronet jerked himself forward in his chair, gazing at his son fiercely as if to drag a reply from his lips, the boy seemed to swallow something, and, as Dean afterwards said to his cousin when talking the matter over, "I could see it go down your throat just as if you were a big bull calf gulping down the cud." "I can't help it, father; something seems to make me say it: I won't go unless you come too." Sir James sank back in his chair, fixing his eyes first upon the doctor, then upon Dean, and lastly upon his son, and it was quite a minute now before he opened his lips to emit a long pent up breath. Then he said, "I must give in, doctor; I'm beaten." "And you will come too, father?" cried Mark, and his utterance was full of joyous excitement. "Yes, my boy; I'll come." CHAPTER THREE. FITS OF TEMPER. "Don't go to sleep, Dozey." "Who's going to sleep?" "Your eyes were nearly shut." "Well, who's to keep them open in this glaring sun?" cried Dean, half angrily. "Well, don't jump down a fellow's throat." "It's enough to make one. I just put my eyes half to, because there's no shade, and you begin at me directly because once or twice I wouldn't keep awake to listen to your prosing about something or another after we had gone to bed, and I did not want to hear." "I beg pardon," cried Mark, with mock politeness. "Don't!" cried Dean pettishly. "Now then, what was it you wanted to say?" "Well, I was going to say, what do you think of it now we have got here?" "Not much; and if it's going to be all like this I shall soon be wishing we had stayed at home." "Same here. I say, what a lot of gammon they do write in books! I always thought Africa was quite a grand country; very hot--" "Oh, it's hot enough," said Dean sharply. "Yes, it's hot enough to make everyone seem lazy. Look at those black fellows there, fast asleep in the sun with their mouths open and the flies buzzing about. But I say, I don't think much of these soldiers. What little under-sized fellows!" "Haven't done growing, perhaps," said Dean.