I could
never have endured it; a nervous woman would have been driven mad.
Yes, I have liked it well enough; I have always looked upon it as a
preparation for life. I think that the society of nature is the best
education for the society of man, since until you understand and are
in sympathy with the one, you cannot really understand the other. Now I
should like to go to Europe and see the world and its civilisations, for
I know from what stuff they were evolved. But perhaps I never shall; at
any rate, I have to find my dear father first," and she sighed.

Leonard made no answer; he was thinking.

"And you, Mr. Outram, do _you_ care for this life?"

"I!" he exclaimed bitterly. "Like yourself, Miss Rodd, I am the victim
of circumstances and must make the best of them. As I told you I am
a penniless adventurer seeking my fortune in the rough places of the
earth. Of course I might earn a livelihood in England, but that is of no
use to me; I must win wealth, and a great deal of it."

"What is the good?" she said. "Is there any object in wearing out one's
life by trying to grow rich?"

"That depends. I have an object, one which I have sworn to fulfil."

She looked at him inquiringly.

"Miss Rodd, I will tell you. My brother, who died of fever some weeks
ago, and I were the last male survivors of a very ancient house. We were
born to great prospects, or at least he was; but owing to the conduct of
our father, everything was lost to us, and the old house, which had been
ours for centuries, went to the hammer. That was some seven years ago,
when I was a man of three-and-twenty. We swore that we would try to
retrieve those fortunes--not for ourselves so much, but for the sake
of the family--and came to Africa to do it. My brother is dead, but I
inherit the oath and continue the quest, however hopeless it may be. And
now, perhaps, you will understand why I signed a certain document."

"Yes," she said, "I understand now. It is a strange history. But tell
me, have you no relations left?"

"One, I believe, if she still lives--a maiden aunt, my mother's sister."

"Is she Jane Beach?" she asked quickly. "Forgive me, but I saw that name
in the prayer-book."

"No," he said, "she is not Jane Beach."

Juanna hesitated; then curiosity and perhaps other feelings overcame
her, and she asked straight out--

"Who is Jane Beach?"

Leonard looked at Juanna and remembered all that he had suffered at her
hands. It was impertinent