"Would Patrington go back there if it were not a delightful life?" he argued. "He has not to get his living there, as the poor fellows have who grill and bake themselves for half a lifetime in India. He goes because he loves the life." "He goes to shoot big game. He is a horrid, bloodthirsty creature." Little by little, however, Lady Emily had allowed herself to be persuaded that Central Africa was not so hideous a region as she had supposed. She was told that there were bits of country like Suffolk, a home-like Arcadia on the shores of Nyassa which would remind her of her own farm. "Then why not make that district your head-quarters?" she argued, appealing to Patrington. "We shall have no head-quarters. We shall wander from one interesting spot to another. We shall settle down only in the Masika season, when travelling is out of the question--not so much because it couldn't be done as because the blackies won't do it. They are uncommonly careful of themselves; won't budge in the rains, won't take a canoe on the lake, if there's a bit of a swell on." "I am glad of that," sighed Lady Emily, with an air of relief; "I am very glad the negroes are prudent and careful." "A deuced deal too prudent, my dear Lady Emily." The men were sitting at a table looking at a map, one of Patrington's rough sketch maps, and splotched with a blunt quill pen. He was showing Allan where more scientific map-makers had gone wrong. "Here's the Lualaba, you see, and here's the little wood where we camped--I seldom use a tent if I can help it, but there wasn't a village within ten miles of that spot." The door was opened and a servant announced-- "Mr. Wornock." Allan started up, surprised, thrown off his balance by Geoffrey's entrance. It was half-past ten--Matcham bedtime. "You have come to bid us good-bye," Allan said, recovering his self-possession as they shook hands. "This is kind and friendly of you." "I have come to do nothing of the sort. I want to join your party, if you and your friend will have me." He spoke in his lightest tone; but he was looking worn and ill, and there were all the signs of sleeplessness and worry in his haggard face. "I know it's the eleventh hour," he said, "but I heard you say," looking from Allan to Patrington, "that your important preparations have to be made at Zanzibar, where you buy most of the things you want. I--I only made up my mind this evening, after dinner. I am bored to death in England. There is nothing for me to do. I get so tired of things----" "And your mother?" hazarded Allan, feebly. "My mother is accustomed to doing without me. I believe I only worry her when I am at home. Will you take me, Carew? 'Yes,' or 'No'?" "Why, of course it is 'Yes,' Mr. Wornock," exclaimed Lady Emily, coming from the other end of the room, where she had been folding up her work for the night. "Allan, why don't you introduce Mr. Wornock to me?"