no need for surf-boats. As to
the bush. They call this `the white man's grave.' And so it is. But
the health of the town could be vastly improved if proper efforts were
made. The bush could be cleared and the place drained."

He paused and looked out to sea, while Dick, as he watched the surf and
thought over what had been said, could not help feeling that had the
measures just mentioned been carried out, his father might still be
living, and many another Englishman with him. Indeed, there is little
doubt that at the time and until this period Cape Coast Castle and its
neighbourhood had been sadly neglected. No English colony had advanced
less, and none was so unhealthy, though a little effort would easily
have improved matters.

"You are lately from home?" asked Mr Pepson, suddenly, turning to Dick.

"Four months ago. I came to help my father, who had had a store here
for many years. He died a week before you landed."

"Before you aided us in our efforts to reach the land, I think," was the
smiling rejoinder. "I knew your father slightly, and I sympathise with
you in your loss. Do you propose to remain in these parts?"

The question was asked so quietly that Dick could not imagine that Mr
Pepson had the smallest interest in the answer. And yet, had he watched
this stranger, he would have seen a keen glance of the eye, a movement
of the hand which denoted eagerness.

"I shall sail for England as soon as my arm is strong enough. I have
been promised help in getting a place aboard one of the ships. I shall
work my way home, and then seek for employment. I have been rather
unlucky."

"You were robbed, we hear. But you still have some property left, and
perhaps you might find work here. What would you say to a trip
up-country?"

Mr Pepson leaned back and surveyed our hero. He drew a cigar from his
pocket, bit the end off, and applied a match. And all the while his
eyes were on the young fellow who had saved his life. As for Meinheer
Van Somering, his cheeks were puffed out with suppressed excitement. He
leaned forward till his chair looked as if it would capsize, and he
devoured the figure seated before him with eyes which were almost hidden
behind the wreathes of fat which clothed his cheeks.

"Mind," said Mr Pepson, calmly, "a trip such as I suggest would not be
a holiday. There are dangers other than connected with fever. There
are natives. Have you heard of King Koffee's hosts of warri