n the peace-loving traveller.

At last there came a final letter from Africa, a letter that filled the
tender, middle-aged heart of Spence with the deepest grief he had ever
known. It was written in a shaky hand, and the writer began by saying that
he knew neither the date nor his locality. He had been ill and delirious
with fever, and was now, at last, in his right mind, but felt the grip
of death upon him. The natives had told him that no one ever recovered
from the malady he had caught in the swamp, and his own feelings led
him to believe that his case was hopeless. The natives had been very
kind to him throughout, and his followers had promised to bring his
boxes to the coast. The boxes contained the collections he had made,
and also his complete journal, which he had written up to the day he
became ill.

Ormond begged his friend to hand over his belongings to the
Geographical Society, and to arrange for the publication of his
journal, if possible. It might secure for him the fame he had died to
achieve, or it might not; but, he added, he left the whole conduct of
the affair unreservedly to his friend, in whom he had that love and
confidence which a man gives to another man but once in his life--when
he is young. The tears were in Jimmy's eyes long before he had finished
the letter.

He turned to another letter he had received by the same mail, and which
also bore the South African stamp upon it. Hoping to find some news of
his friend he broke the seal, but it was merely an intimation from the
steamship company that half-a-dozen boxes remained at the southern
terminus of the line addressed to him; but, they said, until they were
assured the freight upon them to Southampton would be paid, they would
not be forwarded.

A week later, the London papers announced in large type, "Mysterious
disappearance of an actor." The well-known actor, Mr. James Spence, had
left the theatre in which he had been playing the part of Joseph to a
great actor's Richelieu, and had not been heard of since. The janitor
remembered him leaving that night, for he had not returned his
salutation, which was most unusual. His friends had noticed that for a
few days previous to his disappearance he had been apparently in deep
dejection, and fears were entertained. One journalist said jestingly
that probably Jimmy had gone to see what had become of his African
friend; but the joke, such as it was, was not favourably received, for
when a man is c