'I suppose there's going to be a deuce of a row,' said Walker. 'There is.' 'Your companions seldom have a chance to complain of the monotony of their existence,' said Walker, grimly. 'What are you going to do now?' 'At this moment I'm going to fill my pipe.' With a whimsical smile, Alec took his pipe from his pocket, knocked it out on his heel, filled and lit it. The doctor and Walker digested the information he had given them. It was Walker who spoke first. 'I gather from the general amiability of your demeanour that we're in rather a tight place.' 'Tighter than any of your patent-leather boots, my friend.' Walker moved uncomfortably in his chair. He no longer felt sleepy. A cold shiver ran down his spine. 'Have we any chance of getting through?' he asked gravely. It seemed to him that Alec paused an unconscionable time before he answered. 'There's always a chance,' he said. 'I suppose we're going to do a bit more fighting?' 'We are.' Walker yawned loudly. 'Well, at all events there's some comfort in that. If I am going to be done out of my night's rest, I should like to take it out of someone.' Alec looked at him with approval. That was the frame of mind that pleased him. When he spoke again there was in his voice a peculiar charm that perhaps in part accounted for the power he had over his fellows. It inspired an extraordinary belief in him, so that anyone would have followed him cheerfully to certain death. And though his words were few and bald, he was so unaccustomed to take others into his confidence, that when he did so, ever so little, and in that tone, it seemed that he was putting his hearers under a singular obligation. 'If things turn out all right, we shall come near finishing the job, and there won't be much more slave-trading in this part of Africa.' 'And if things don't turn out all right?' 'Why then, I'm afraid the tea tables of Mayfair will be deprived of your scintillating repartee for ever.' Walker looked down at the ground. Strange thoughts ran through his head, and when he looked up again, with a shrug of the shoulders, there was a queer look in his eyes. 'Well, I've not had a bad time in my life,' he said slowly. 'I've loved a little, and I've worked and played. I've heard some decent music, I've looked at nice pictures, and I've read some thundering fine books. If I can only account for a few more of those damned scoundrels before I die, I shouldn't think I had much to complain of.' Alec smiled, but did not answer. A silence fell upon them. Walker's words brought to Alec the recollection of what had caused the trouble which now threatened them, and his lips tightened. A dark frown settled between his eyes. 'Well, I suppose I'd better go and get things straight,' said the doctor. 'I'll do what I can with those fellows and trust to Providence that they'll stand the jolting.' 'What about Perkins?' asked Alec. 'Lord knows! I'll try and keep him quiet with choral.'