a lot of work to do to-day, but I
should like to run in and see you this evening."

"Yes, come and dine."

Durnovo shook his head and looked down at his wrinkled and draggled
clothing.

"No, I can't do that, old man. Not in this trim."

"Bosh? What matter? Jocelyn doesn't mind."

"No, but I do."

It was obvious that he wanted to accept the invitation, although the
objection he raised was probably honest. For that taint in the blood
that cometh from the subtle tar-brush brings with it a vanity that has
its equal in no white man's heart.

"Well, I'll lend you a black coat! Seven o'clock sharp!"

Durnovo hurried away with a gleam of excitement in his dark eyes.

Maurice Gordon did not resume his work at once. He sat for some time
idly drumming with his fingers on the desk.

"If I can only get her to be civil to him," he reflected aloud, "I'll
get into this business yet."

At seven o'clock Durnovo appeared at the Gordons' house. He had managed
to borrow a dress-suit, and wore an orchid in his buttonhole. It was
probably the first time that Jocelyn had seen him in this garb of
civilisation, which is at the same time the most becoming and the
most trying variety of costume left to sensible men in these days. A
dress-suit finds a man out sooner than anything except speech.

Jocelyn was civil in her reception--more so, indeed, than Maurice Gordon
had hoped for. She seemed almost glad to see Durnovo, and evinced quite
a kindly interest in his movements. Durnovo attributed this to the
dress-suit, while Maurice concluded that his obvious hints, thrown out
before dinner, had fallen on fruitful ground.

At dinner Victor Durnovo was quite charmed with the interest that
Jocelyn took in the expedition, of which, he gave it to be understood,
he was the chief. So also was Maurice, because Durnovo's evident
admiration of Jocelyn somewhat overcame his natural secrecy of
character.

"You'll hear of me, Miss Gordon, never fear, before three months are
past," said Durnovo, in reply to a vague suggestion that his absence
might extend to several months. "I am not the sort of man to come to
grief by a foolish mistake or any unnecessary risk."

To which sentiment two men at Msala bore generous testimony later on.

The simple dinner was almost at an end, and it was at this time that
Jocelyn Gordon began once more to dislike Durnovo. At first she had felt
drawn towards him. Although he wore the dress-clothes rather awkwardly,
t