he in four years' service seen the lieutenant as he
was now. Although Schultz could speak Kiswahili fluently he knew no word
of Munyamwezi, else he might have been disposed to agree with Bakunjala
and his friends. As it was he thought that the Herr Lieutenant had gotten
a touch of the sun or was drinking too heavily or perhaps a bit of both;
for to his mind the act of dividing up their scanty forces and leaving
their fortified positions to enter the forest, with no chance of keeping
open the line of communication, appeared to be military suicide.

He deemed it his duty to bring this point of view to his Kommandant's
notice, but he was uncomfortably aware of zu Pfeiffer's headstrong
character.

"What time does the moon set, sergeant?" demanded zu Pfeiffer.

"About three, Excellence."

"Good. Then at five precisely the column will move. Warn Sergeant
Schneider."

"Ya, Excellence."

"You will transfer the remainder of your men and the Nordenfeldt as soon
as we have gone."

"Ya, Excellence."

"That is all, sergeant."

Zu Pfeiffer dropped his head wearily on to his hand. Schultz remained
rigidly by the door. Zu Pfeiffer glanced up peevishly.

"I said that was all, sergeant," he exclaimed tetchily.

"Ya, Excellence."

"Herr Gott, what are you standing there for like a stuffed pig?"

Schultz saluted.

"Excellence, it is my duty to remind your Excellence that according to
regulation 47 of {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}"

"To hell with you and your regulations, damn you.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Will you leave me
alone!" The last was almost a plea.

"Excellence!"

Schultz saluted briskly and went. Again zu Pfeiffer's head dropped on to
the cupped hand and he gazed at the portrait in the ivory frame.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Against
the blue twilight of the door appeared a tall figure in white.

"What in the name of----" began zu Pfeiffer.

"Chakula tayari, Bwana," announced Bakunjala timidly.

"I don't want any chakula," said zu Pfeiffer. "Wait. Bring some here."

"Bwana!"

Bakunjala fled, to reappear almost instantly with a covered plate, which
he placed on the table as bidden and vanished. Zu Pfeiffer regarded
distastefully his favourite dish of curried eggs. Then he bawled
irritably:

"Lights, animal!"

"Bwana!" gasped Bakunjala appearing in the doorway with the lamp.

But zu Pfeiffer pushed the plate away to stare at the photograph of
Lucille. The stare turned to a glare, and then as if mutinying agains