“Confound Durnovo!” he cried, when the telegram had been read aloud. “Confound him, with his energy and his business-like habits! That means that you will have to leave us before long; and somehow it has got to be quite natural to see you come lounging in ten minutes late for most things, with an apology for Jocelyn, but none for me. We shall miss you, old chap.” “Yes,” added Jocelyn, “we shall.” She was busy with the cups, and spoke rather indifferently. “So you've got Oscard?” continued Maurice. “I imagine he is a good man--tip-top shot and all that. I've never met him, but I have heard of him.” “He is a gentleman, at all events,” said Meredith quietly; “I know that.” Jocelyn was looking at him between the hibiscus flowers decorating the table. “Is Mr. Durnovo going to be leader of the expedition?” she inquired casually, after a few moments' silence; and Jack, looking up with a queer smile, met her glance for a moment. “No,” he answered. Maurice Gordon's hearty laugh interrupted. “Ha, ha!” he cried. “I wonder where the dickens you men are going to?” “Up the Ogowe river,” replied Jack. “No doubt. But what for? There is something mysterious about that river. Durnovo keeps his poor relations there, or something of that kind.” “We are not going to look for them.” “I suppose,” said Maurice, helping himself to marmalade, “that he has dropped upon some large deposit of ivory; that will turn out to be the solution of the mystery. It is the solution of most mysteries in this country. I wish I could solve the mysteries of ways and means and drop upon a large deposit of ivory, or spice, or precious stones. We should soon be out of this country, should we not, old girl?” “I do not think we have much to complain of,” answered Jocelyn. “No; you never do. Moreover, I do not suppose you would do so if you had the excuse.” “Oh yes, I should, if I thought it would do any good.” “Ah!” put in Meredith. “There speaks Philosophy--jam, please.” “Or Resignation--that is strawberry and this is black currant.” “Thanks, black currant. No--Philosophy. Resignation is the most loathsome of the virtues.” “I can't say I care for any of them very much,” put in Maurice. “No; I thought you seemed to shun them,” said Jack, like a flash. “Sharp! very sharp! Jocelyn, do you know what we called him at school?--the French nail; he was so very long and thin and sharp! I might add polished and strong, but we were not so polite in those days. Poor old Jack! he gave as good as he got. But I must be off--the commerce of Western Africa awaits me. You'll be round at the office presently, I suppose, Jack?” “Yes; I have an appointment there with a coloured person who is a liar by nature and a cook by trade.” Maurice Gordon usually went off like this--at a moment's notice. He was one of those loud-speaking, quick-actioned men, who often get a reputation for energy and capacity without fully deserving it.