Next day he sent a brief letter to Antyandi telling her that he had done wrong, that he was very much ashamed, and that she must not expect him ever to enter her house again. He fully realized that there was a hard fight ahead of him and he thought best not to see her at all. She made many attempts and plied her arts to get him again in her power. She wrote him letters in which she professed to be dying for love of him. I went to her and ordered her not to set her foot on the mission premises. She regarded the order by day, but she came at night. She came to his window waking him suddenly out of his sleep. She tried his door. She came at all hours of the night. One night he found that he could not lock his door. She had probably tampered with it; but he did not think of that, for she had not been there for several nights. That night at midnight she came. He broke loose from her and ran straight for my room, where I was in bed asleep. He knocked and entered; then told me what had happened and begged me to protect him. I told him he must stay in my room the rest of that night; which he did, and slept on the floor. I kept him there every night for a week; for more than once he had wavered though he had not fallen. Thus she continued to do for two months; but the subject is not a pleasant one, and we need not follow the course of events during that period. After two months we heard that she was in Libreville, the mistress of a dignitary of the government, and Bojedi supposed that that would be the last of her; but it was not. A month later the white man suddenly left Libreville or died—I have forgotten which—and Antyandi returned home. A few days afterwards, returning from the beach one morning, I observed that in my absence some one had closed the door of my study which I had left open; the windows also were closed and the blinds down. I hurried in with a vague apprehension of something wrong. There sat Bojedi in the darkened room, his face buried in his hands and sobbing as if his heart would break. I knew instantly what had happened. “How can I tell you!” “There is no need to tell me,” I replied; “go to your own house, Bojedi, and I shall follow you in a little while.”