She was burning with jealousy, for she idolised her husband; and the love that had so long lain latent seemed to be all the stronger for its long quiescence. She disowned the idea of being jealous to herself, and was about to burst into a furious speech; but her effort to govern herself succeeded. Shame and vexation covered her as with a garment; and hiding her face in her hands, she sank back in her chair, sobbing as if her heart would break! Grey knelt down at her side as Hilton drew back, wrinkling his brow, half with vexation, half with contempt, as he looked now at the Resident. Mr Harley returned the glance, and they both stood looking on, wanting to leave but hardly liking to stir, as poor little Mrs Bolter sobbed forth her trouble, with her head buried now in Grey Stuart's breast. "We cannot wait longer," said the Resident at last; "we must go and risk it. If we have any casualties, we must trust to our own surgical knowledge, and do the best we can." "Yes," said Hilton; "every minute is precious; but I am afraid that we are going to a war of words, and not to a war of weapons. Let us go. Perhaps Mrs Bolter will beg of the doctor to come after us in one of the small boats if we miss him on our way up." "Stop a minute," said Mrs Bolter, recovering herself by an effort, and standing up, red of eye and cheek. "He will not come back here while you are gone, and I will hesitate no longer. I shall go with you!" "Go with us?" cried the Resident and Hilton in a breath. "Yes," said the little woman, decidedly. "I shall go!" "But it is impossible!" cried the Resident. "There may be fighting!" "Then you would want help. I do know a little surgery, and more nursing; so I could be of great service." "But, my dear Mrs Bolter!" cried Hilton. "Now, it is of no use for you to talk!" cried the little lady. "I feel it is a duty that I am called upon to fulfil. There is my brother somewhere up in those dreadful jungles, as thoughtless and as helpless as a child. He is all strength in goodness and spiritual matters; but as to taking care of himself, he is like a baby. I know he is lost!" "It is very good of you," said the Resident, warmly; "but, my dear Mrs Bolter, pray trust to us to find all our missing people. You know what Doctor Bolter is." "Yes--no--yes--no!" she cried, passionately. "I don't quite know him yet; but I know my duty as his--his--wife. I shall go: for if he has, through his weakness, been led into any entanglement with that wretched, wicked black creature, I know and I feel, that at any suffering to myself, I ought to go and fetch him back--and I will!" As she said this in a fierce determined way, the two officers gazed again in each other's faces, amused, vexed, troubled, puzzled; for what, they silently asked each other, were they to do?