hen his time comes he
must go even as we; yet do I fervently pray that one of ourselves may be
the fleshly instrument selected to cause his going.

"And now, Kenyon, how called you your affianced wife?--Roxana, was it
not?--Roxana--ay, an Asiatic name signifying, if I mistake not, the
`Goddess of the Morning.' It must be the same--hear me out, old
fellow," as Kenyon rose, fairly trembling with excitement. "A young
white woman, known amongst the natives by a name signifying `The Star of
the Morning,' and reputed to be very fair to look upon, was brought over
from Madagascar to Zanzibar by Zero and his so-called wife, and was a
prisoner in their hands until just before the time that I and my men
were taken captives by his band. He was then working his way up here
from the coast--but during his absence from camp one day, his zareeba
was stormed by a horde of Arabs, who swept out the best half of his
property, including the white girl and upwards of one hundred
repeating-rifles, the latter having been purchased and carefully
smuggled in for the use of his men.

"When Zero returned, he behaved, I heard, like a creature bereft of his
senses; he had, of course, expected to make `big money' out of the sale
of the girl, and to reduce the Arabs themselves with the Winchesters,
whereas the boot was now very much on the other leg. I also heard that
he cautiously followed the tracks of the spoilers, but found that the
girl had persuaded them to take her to Zanzibar, where she was quickly
liberated through the kind agency of the British Consul, and was
supposed to have left for America. Zero then made tracks for home, and
came upon our hunting party in an evil hour, and the rest you know."

Kenyon gripped Grenville's hand in silence, and the tears chased one
another rapidly down his cheeks. "God bless you, old fellow," he
blurted out at last: "it was well worth saving your life, if only for
this--I was fast becoming a brute, and you've given me back love and
hope, and with them my faith in Heaven." Grenville and his cousin rose
quietly and left him alone with the cruel memories of the darksome past
and the bright hopes of the near future, and nothing in all their lives
became them better; but as they walked away Leigh put his hand on his
cousin's shoulder: "Good old Dick," he said, in a tone of anguish, "you
have no hope nor help for _me_." Then his voice changing to a positive
hiss--"You may talk till you're black in the f