It was during Bojedi’s second year as teacher that I found that he was living in illicit relations with a certain woman. It was a grief to me. He was a lovable boy; excepting Ndong Koni and Amvama, none were nearer to me than Bojedi. I had come to expect almost as much of him as a white man. Moreover the matter was fraught not only with possible ruin to himself but also with evil influence for the school. For although it was only lately that he had made any profession of being a Christian, he stood before the boys as a Christian in a marked way; had offered a prayer each morning in opening the school; had talked with them personally; and had exercised an influence for good that was the more profound because of their love of him. I wailed until night, after hearing this report, and then called him into the schoolhouse, where we would not be disturbed, and there we talked for hours. I said: “Bojedi, is it true that you are living with Antyandi?” He replied: “It is true that I am _married_ to Antyandi.”—So he had tried to make himself believe. Antyandi would be regarded by any native as a very attractive woman. Although she looked younger than Bojedi she was really several years older and was artful according to her years. She had some education and spoke and wrote French. She could boast of having lived with several white men, one of them at least of high rank in the government, and from these associations she had acquired a manner that was decidedly smart and foreign, not to speak of trunks filled with fine clothes. She was girlish in form and light in motion and had the reputation of being a great dancer. It happened once that she danced before King Adandi; not however for the head of a missionary on a charger, although afterwards she would doubtless have been glad to have had my head thus presented to her. A bottle of champagne was all she asked. Adandi was head of the whole Mpongwe tribe. He was dressed when I saw him last in white shoes, white flannel trousers and shirt, black velvet coat with a heavy gold chain suspended from his neck, and a white hat. He had received part of his education in France. He claimed the dignified distinction of martyrdom, having been twice imprisoned by the French and once exiled. He was a convert of the Jesuits and was profoundly religious—barring such discrepancies as drunkenness, gambling and adultery. King Adandi saw Antyandi dance and he declared that he would die if he could not add her to the number of his wives. She refused him however on the ground that Adandi being a king the relation would involve a degree of constancy on her part to which she was not accustomed. Then he organized a band of young men to seize the lady and carry her off, as they do in books. This had a fine flavour of romance about it. But the chocolate heroine had two invisible leopards, according to her claim, which attended her day and night, and with these she dispersed the brigands.