“What’s the matter? You look excited, like as if you’d seen something,” said MacBride suspiciously. “I’ve seen nothing,” Ortho replied. “What should I see?” “Blest if I know; only you looked startled.” “I was thinking.” “Oh, was you? Well, as I was saying, there’s a mort o’ pigs in there, wild ’uns, and lions too, by report, but I ain’t seen none. I’ll get some sport as soon as my leg heals. This ain’t much of a place though. Can’t get no money out of charcoal burners, not if you was to torture ’em for a year. As God is my witness I’ve done my best, but the sooty vermin ain’t got any.” He sighed. “I shall be devilish glad when we can get back to our lawful business again. I’ve heard married men in England make moan about _their_ ‘family responsibilities’—but what of me? I’ve got _three_ separate families already and two more on the way! What d’you say to that—eh?” Ortho sympathized with the much domesticated seaman and declared he must be going. “You’re in hell’s own hurry all to a sudden.” “I’m on the bodyguard, you know.” “Well, if you must that’s an end on’t, but I was hoping you’d stop for days and we’d have a chaw over old Jerry Gish—he-he! What a man! Say, would you have the maidens plague that Sambo once more before you go? Would you now? Give the word!” Ortho declined the pleasure and asked if MacBride could sell him a boat compass. “I can sell you two or three, but what d’you want it for?” “I’m warned for the Guinea caravan,” Ortho explained. “A couple of _akkabaah_ have been lost lately; the guides went astray in the sands. I want to keep some check on them.” “I thought the Guinea force went out about Christmas.” “No, this month.” “Well, you know best, I suppose,” said the captain and gave him a small compass, refusing payment. “Come back and see us before you go,” he shouted as Ortho went out of the gate. “Surely,” the latter replied and rode southwards for Sallee at top speed, knowing full well that, unless luck went hard against him, so far from seeing Ben MacBride again he would be out of the country before midnight. While Ourida lived, life in Morocco had its compensations; with her death it had become insupportable. He had ridden down to the sea filled with a cold determination to seize the first opportunity of escape and, if none occurred, to make one. Plans had been forming in his mind of working north to Tangier, there stealing a boat and running the blockade into beleaguered Gibraltar, some forty miles distant, a scheme risky to the point of foolhardiness. But remain he would not.