He raised his head, listening as she did--both looking down the river into the gathering darkness. “I hear the sound of paddles,” she said. “And you?” “Not yet. My ears are not so sharp as yours.” “I am accustomed to it,” the woman said, with some emotion in her voice which he did not understand then. “I am always listening.” Oscard seemed to be struck with this description of herself. It was so very apt--so comprehensive. The woman's attitude before the world was the attitude of the listener for some distant sound. She poured out his coffee, setting the cup at his elbow. “Now you will hear,” she said, standing upright with that untrammelled dignity of carriage which is found wherever African blood is in the veins. “They have just come round Broken Tree Bend. There are two boats.” He listened, and after a moment heard the regular glug-glug of the paddles stealing over the waters of the still tropic river, covering a wonderful distance. “Yes,” he said, “I hear. Mr. Meredith said he would be back to-night.” She gave a strange, little low laugh--almost the laugh of a happy woman. “He is like that, Mr. Meredith,” she said; “what he says he does”--in the pretty English of one who has learnt Spanish first. “Yes, Marie--he is like that.” She turned, in her strangely subdued way, and went into the house to prepare some supper for the new-comers. It was not long before the sound of the paddles was quite distinct, and then--probably on turning a corner of the river and coming in sight of the lights of Msala--Jack Meredith's cheery shout came floating through the night. Oscard took his pipe from his lips and sent back an answer that echoed against the trees across the river. He walked down to the water's edge, where he was presently joined by Joseph with a lantern. The two boats came on to the sloping shore with a grating sound, and by the light of the waving lantern Oscard saw Durnovo and Jack land from the same boat. The three men walked up to the house together. Marie was at the door, and bowed her head gravely in answer to Jack's salutation. Durnovo nodded curtly and said nothing. In the sitting-room, by the light of the paraffin lamp, the two Englishmen exchanged a long questioning glance, quite different from the quick interrogation of a woman's eyes. There was a smile on Jack Meredith's face. “All ready to start to-morrow?” he inquired. “Yes,” replied Oscard. And that was all they could say. Durnovo never left them alone together that night. He watched their faces with keen, suspicious eyes. Behind the moustache his lips were pursed up in restless anxiety. But he saw nothing--learnt nothing. These two men were inscrutable.