that awaited him, its youthful mistress
the second. Guy Oscard was rather afraid of most women. He did not
understand them, and probably he despised them. Men who are afraid or
ignorant often do.

"And when did you leave them?" asked Jocelyn, after her visitor had
explained who he was. He was rather taken aback by so much dainty
refinement in remote Africa, and explained rather badly. But she helped
him out by intimating that she knew all about him.

"I left them forty-four days ago," he replied.

"And were they well?"

"She is very much interested," reflected Oscard, upon whom her eagerness
of manner had not been lost. "Surely, it cannot be that fellow Durnovo?"

"Oh, yes," he replied with unconscious curtness.

"Mr. Durnovo cannot ever remain inland for long without feeling the
effect of the climate."

Guy Oscard, with the perspicacity of his sex, gobbled up the bait. "It
IS Durnovo," he reflected.

"Oh, he is all right," he said; "wonderfully well, and so are the
others--Joseph and Meredith. You know Meredith?"

Jocelyn was busy with a vase of flowers standing on the table at her
elbow. One of the flowers had fallen half out, and she was replacing
it--very carefully.

"Oh, yes," she said, without ceasing her occupation, "we know Mr.
Meredith."

The visitor did not speak at once, and she looked up at him, over the
flowers, with grave politeness.

"Meredith," he said, "is one of the most remarkable men I have ever
met."

It was evident that this ordinarily taciturn man wanted to unburthen
his mind. He was desirous of talking to some one of Jack Meredith; and
perhaps Jocelyn reflected that she was as good a listener as he would
find in Loango.

"Really," she replied with a kindly interest. "How?"

He paused, not because he found it difficult to talk to this woman, but
because he was thinking of something.

"I have read or heard somewhere of a steel gauntlet beneath a velvet
glove."

"Yes."

"That describes Meredith. He is not the man I took him for. He is so
wonderfully polite and gentle and pleasant. Not the qualities that make
a good leader for an African exploring expedition--eh?"

Jocelyn gave a strange little laugh, which included, among other things,
a subtle intimation that she rather liked Guy Oscard. Women do convey
these small meanings sometimes, but one finds that they do not intend
them to be acted upon.

"And he has kept well all the time?" she asked softly. "He did not look
st