For the sight of that weeping girl had been to me a double revelation. It had shown me, what I was indeed dull enough not to have seen before, that her sweet comradeship came from something more than mere friendliness; and it had made clear what I was yet more dull not to have perceived--that this lovely and gracious woman was to me more than all the world beside. What then should I do? Should I give up my plan and settle down quietly at Quittáh? That was the course that common-sense suggested. And yet that would be a heavy sacrifice, for, so strongly had this foolish scheme taken hold of me that it had become a positive obsession. And then my pride raised objections to the evident dictates of reason; not the noble pride that makes a man scorn to fall short of his own ethical ideal, but the paltry pride that makes him ashamed to repudiate an ill-formed and hasty resolution. It would seem an absurdly weak and flat conclusion if, after all these preparations, I should collapse at the last moment and go back humbly to my oil puncheons and kernel bags. The mountain that had been in labour would have brought forth such a very small mouse. And what would Isabel think of me? Might she not misunderstand my heroic self-sacrifice? It was not a noble thought; but yet it must be admitted that to a romantic girl, a lover girding up his loins for a perilous, if Quixotic, quest is one thing, and the same lover, with his sleeves rolled up weighing out rubber in the factory yard, is another and a very different thing. That rubber decided me. My vanity came to the aid of my self-will, and I once more decided to see my adventure through. And having reached this conclusion I made my way back to the house with a firm step and a steady lip. She was standing in the verandah when I entered the compound, and when she saw me she waved her hand and greeted me gaily with a Hausa salutation; and when I bounded up the stairs and stood by her side she was quite cheerful and self-possessed, though rather more sober than usual. “The ship won’t nearly finish loading to-day,” she said, “so we shall have one more evening together. I wonder how long it will be before you come back.” “Not more than a month or two, I expect,” said I. “Perhaps less if I am lucky and find out what I want to know quickly. The actual distance is quite small from here to Upper Ashánti.” “Yes. And perhaps you won’t think it worth while to stay there at all. You may find that the whole thing is a myth.” I thought she seemed to rather hope that it might be so, but I did not encourage the hope. “That is hardly likely,” I said. “There must be some foundation for all those reports. But here is your father, straight from the beach, I expect, with the latest news of my reprieve.”