"I agree with you," said Cyril, dropping down promptly. "Durgo, tell your story and then I shall tell mine. When we each know what the other knows, we may be able to arrive at some conclusion." "Regarding the murder," said Bella. "Perhaps," she added hopefully, "perhaps your father did not kill mine after all." "I fear he did," said Cyril heavily. "Remember what was said at the inquest about the West African knife with which the crime was committed. Nigeria is in West Africa." "My master had no knife of that sort," said Durgo bluntly. "Have you a description of the knife," asked Bella. "I read it in the newspapers," said the negro. "When you told me of your father's death, I read the papers." "You can read." "I can read and write and do many things," said Durgo quietly. "I have a black skin, but my education has not been neglected." "So I should think from the way in which you speak English." "The missionaries taught me much, and Edwin Lister taught me the rest." Cyril frowned. "I notice that you do not say 'Mister' when you speak of my father," he said pointedly. "I am a chief and the son of a chief," said Durgo proudly. "And for love of your father, who saved my life, I left my tribe and came with him. I called him master as a title of honour because I loved him, so why should I not say Edwin Lister?" Cyril, with the white man's inborn superiority, objected to this familiarity, and, but that Durgo's services were necessary to the unravelling of the mystery, would have pointed this out. As it was, he simply nodded and asked the black man to be more explicit. Durgo sat down and complied without any argument. His manners for a negro were singularly good. "There is not much to tell," he said in his guttural tones. "Edwin Lister was my friend and a trader in Nigeria, my country. He saved my life from a lion and won my gratitude. I helped him with his trading and left my tribe to do so. We heard of a treasure in the wilds of my country, and wished to fit out an expedition to find that treasure. Edwin Lister did, that is, and I was glad to do as he desired. But we required money, and it could not be had. Edwin Lister then thought of an old friend of his, Captain Huxham, who had also been in Nigeria----" "My father!" cried Bella, startled. "Yes, missy," said Durgo, bending his head towards her with grave respect. "He was well known in Nigeria many years ago, as he had a river steamer there. Edwin Lister then came to London with me, and afterwards came to see Captain Huxham here. That was some weeks ago, and he promised me to return. As he did not, I came down and then heard of the murder of Captain Huxham. But where is my master, Edwin Lister?" and Durgo looked from one to the other. "Have you not seen him since?" asked Cyril anxiously. "No." Durgo shook his head profoundly. "What do you think has become of him?" asked Cyril, still white.