“Have you considered seriously the great expense you are likely to incur on account of this little journey?” suggested Stanley, wondering at the cool order of sending one to Central Africa to search for a man whom he, in common with almost all other men, believed to be dead. [Illustration: RECEPTION OF THE OFFICERS OF THE EXPEDITION AT THE SULTAN’S PALACE, ZANZIBAR.] “What will it cost?” asked Mr. Bennett. “Burton and Speke’s journey to Central Africa cost between £3,000 and £5,000, and I fear it cannot be done under £2,500,” replied Mr. Stanley. “Well, I will tell you what you will do. Draw a thousand pounds now, and when you have gone through that, draw another thousand; and when that is spent, draw another thousand; and when you have finished that, draw another thousand, and so on; but FIND LIVINGSTONE!” Stanley, though somewhat surprised, yet not confused at the order--for he knew that Mr. Bennett, when once he had made up his mind, was not easily drawn aside from his purpose--thought, seeing it was such a gigantic undertaking, that he had not quite fully considered in his own mind the pros and cons of the case, and said, “I have heard that should your father die you would sell the ‘Herald’ and retire from business.” “Whoever told you that is wrong, for there is not money enough in New York city to buy the ‘Herald.’ My father has made it a great paper; but I mean to make it greater. I mean that it shall be a newspaper in the true sense of the word. I mean that it shall publish whatever news will be interesting to the world, at no matter what cost.” “After that,” says Stanley, “I have nothing more to say. Do you mean me to go straight on to Africa to search for Dr. Livingstone?” Mr. Bennett thereupon outlined a course of instructions as to what he would have Stanley do in the matter, closing with these words: “Bagdad will be close on your way to India. Suppose you go there and write up something about the Euphrates Valley Railroad. Then, when you have come to India, you can go after Livingstone. Probably you will hear by that time that Livingstone is on his way to Zanzibar; but if not, go into the interior and find him, if alive. Get what news of his discoveries you can; and, if you find he is dead, bring all possible proof of his being dead. That is all. Good night, and God be with you.” Thus it was that Stanley received his _carte blanche_, and as promptly set out upon his mission. He was then about twenty-nine years of age, a thick-set, powerful man, though short of stature, being only about five feet seven inches in height. He is a sure shot, an expert swimmer, a fine horseman, a trained athlete. But few men living have had more experience in “roughing it.” A better selection for the command of its singular undertaking could not possibly have been made by the “Herald,” and this the result, so astonishing to the world, has practically demonstrated.