Captain Francis moved a step towards the huddled-up figure breathing heavily upon the floor, but Trent, leaning over, stopped him. “Let him be,” he said gruffly. “I know enough of him to be sure that he needs no one prying and ferreting into his affairs. Besides, it isn't safe for us to be dawdling about here. How many soldiers have you brought with you?” “Two hundred,” Captain Francis answered shortly. Trent whistled. “We're all right for a bit, then,” he said; “but it's a pretty sort of a picnic you're on, eh?” “Never mind my business,” Captain Francis answered curtly; “what about yours? Why have you been hanging about here for me?” “I'll show you,” Trent answered, taking a paper from his knapsack. “You see, it's like this. There are two places near this show where I've found gold. No use blowing about it down at Buckomari--the fellows there haven't the nerve of a kitten. This cursed climate has sapped it all out of them, I reckon. Monty and I clubbed together and bought presents for his Majesty, the boss here, and Monty wrote out this little document--sort of concession to us to sink mines and work them, you see. The old buffer signed it like winking, directly he spotted the rum, but we ain't quite happy about it; you see, it ain't to be supposed that he's got a conscience, and there's only us saw him put his mark there. We'll have to raise money to work the thing upon this, and maybe there'll be difficulties. So what we thought was this. Here's an English officer coming; let's get him to witness it, and then if the King don't go on the square, why, it's a Government matter.” Captain Francis lit a cigarette and smoked thoughtfully for a moment or two. “I don't quite see,” he said, “why we should risk a row for the sake of you two.” Trent snorted. “Look here,” he said; “I suppose you know your business. You don't want me to tell you that a decent excuse for having a row with this old Johnny is about the best thing that could happen to you. He's a bit too near the borders of civilisation to be a decent savage. Sooner or later some one will have to take him under their protection. If you don't do it, the French will. They're hanging round now looking out for an opportunity. Listen!” Both men moved instinctively towards the open part of the hut and looked across towards the village. Up from the little open space in front of the King's dwelling-house leaped a hissing bright flame; they had kindled a fire, and black forms of men, stark naked and wounding themselves with spears, danced around it and made the air hideous with discordant cries. The King himself, too drunk to stand, squatted upon the ground with an empty bottle by his side. A breath of wind brought a strong, noxious odour to the two men who stood watching. Captain Francis puffed hard at his cigarette. “Ugh!” he muttered; “beastly!”