some people here. I have not the pleasure of Sir
Arthur's acquaintance."

He would have turned away at this point, but the man pulled a card from
his pocket and presented it to him. Guy glanced it over with interest:

C. MANUEL TORRES,
_Trader at Aden and Berbera_.

"A vile Portuguese slave-hunter," he thought to himself.

"Well, Mr. Torres," he said. "I am sorry that I have no cards about me,
but my name is Chutney."

The Portuguese softly whispered the name once or twice. Then, without
further questioning, he offered Guy a cigar, and lit one himself.

Manuel Torres proved to be quite an interesting companion, and gave Guy
a vivid account of the wonders of the fair.

As they went below at dinner time he pointed out on the corner of the
dock a great stack of wooden boxes.

"Those are mine," he said. "They contain iron and steel implements for
the natives and Arabs."

"They look like rifle cases," Guy remarked carelessly; and, looking at
the Portuguese as he spoke, he fancied that the dark face actually
turned gray for an instant. In a moment they were seated at the table,
and the brief occurrence was forgotten.

All that afternoon they steamed on across the gulf, overhead the blue
and cloudless sky, beneath them waters of even deeper blue, and at
sunset the yellow coast line of the African continent loomed up from the
purple distance.

Guy had been dozing under an awning most of the afternoon, but now he
came forward eagerly to get his first glimpse of eastern Africa.

To his great disappointment, the captain refused to land.

It was risky, he said, to make a landing at night, and it would be dark
when they entered the harbor. They must lie at anchor till morning.

Most of the night Guy paced up and down the deck sleeping at brief
intervals, and listening with eager curiosity to the strange sounds that
floated out on the air from the shore, where the flickering glare of
many torches could be seen.

Stretched on a mattress, the Portuguese slept like a log, without once
awakening.

Before dawn the anchors were lifted, and at the captain's suggestion Guy
hastened down to his cabin to gather up his scanty luggage, for most of
his traps had gone on to Calcutta in the Cleopatra.

He buckled on his sword, put his revolvers in his pocket, clapped his
big solar topee on his head, and then reached down for the morocco
traveling case which he had stored away for better security under his
berth.