Stanley gave a low whistle. The man was courageous
indeed who dare resort to such a step, now that it was necessary to
pamper the natives if one wanted no trouble at headquarters.

Carew took no notice of the significant rejoinder, but his firm mouth,
if anything, grew a little firmer.

"I gave him due warning, but he thought I dare not carry out my
threat. He was mistaken. Never make a threat that you can't carry out.
It matters more than anything with natives. He will not give trouble
again at present."

"But they may say a good deal at headquarters if he carries his story
there!"

"I had to risk that. But he is so entirely in the wrong, and so
clearly aware of it, I don't think he will venture to say anything. I
have three cases of diabolical cruelty against him, besides stealing
and law-breaking generally."

Stanley watched him with eyes of admiration. To him the man's strength
was ever a source of delight, now that his unsociable ways were no
longer a puzzle.

"We had a scientific man here yesterday to view the ruins," he
continued, as Carew still lingered while he lit his pipe. "He has a
remarkable theory for divining corpses by the gold ornaments buried on
them. He thinks there are probably several in the temple, deeper than
anyone has yet dug."

Carew did not look very interested. His eyes had still the
retrospective, pained expression that had come into them instantly,
when he grasped the import of Stanley's sad tidings.

"Where did he come from?" he asked, half turning away.

"I don't know. He was only here for a few hours. We gave him some tea,
and he left us some interesting papers, if you would care to have
them. He seemed rather interested in you!..." and Stanley looked
keenly into his face.

"In what way?" Carew pulled hard at his beloved pipe and spoke with
studied carelessness.

"Your name cropped up about something, and he wanted to know if you
were a Fourtenay-Carew."

The officer started very slightly, but made no comment, and Stanley
added, "He particularly wanted to know if you were a Devonshire man. I
said you were."

"I _was_ a Devonshire man," Carew corrected; "I _am_ a Rhodesian."

Then he turned and with a short good night went back into his hut.

The next morning, directly his official work was finished, he started
to ride over to the mission station, where some far-off connections of
his, William and Ailsa Grenville, found by chance in the wilderness,
lived the simple li