the last indeed, when his mind
returned to him.

"Baas," he said, "did not the captain Mavovo name me Light-in-Darkness,
and is not that my name? When you too enter the Darkness, look for that
Light; it will be shining very close to you."

He only spoke once more. His words were:

"Baas, I understand now what your reverend father, the Predikant, meant
when he spoke to me about Love last night. It had nothing to do with
women, Baas, at least not much. It was something a great deal bigger,
Baas, something as big as what I feel for you!"

Then Hans died with a smile on his wrinkled face.

I wept!

CHAPTER XXI

HOMEWARDS

There is not much more to write of this expedition, or if that statement
be not strictly true, not much more that I wish to write, though I have
no doubt that Ragnall, if he had a mind that way, could make a good and
valuable book concerning many matters on which, confining myself to the
history of our adventure, I have scarcely touched. All the affinities
between this Central African Worship of the Heavenly Child and
its Guardian and that of Horus and Isis in Egypt from which it was
undoubtedly descended, for instance. Also the part which the great
serpent played therein, as it may be seen playing a part in every tomb
upon the Nile, and indeed plays a part in our own and other religions.
Further, our journey across the desert to the Red Sea was very
interesting, but I am tired of describing journeys--and of making them.

The truth is that after the death of Hans, like to Queen Sheba when she
had surveyed the wonders of Solomon's court, there was no more spirit in
me. For quite a long while I did not seem to care at all what happened
to me or to anybody else. We buried him in a place of honour, exactly
where he shot Jana before the gateway of the second court, and when the
earth was thrown over his little yellow face I felt as though half my
past had departed with him into that hole. Poor drunken old Hans, where
in the world shall I find such another man as you were? Where in the
world shall I find so much love as filled the cup of that strange heart
of yours?

I dare say it is a form of selfishness, but what every man desires is
something that cares for him _alone_, which is just why we are so fond
of dogs. Now Hans was a dog with a human brain and he cared for me
alone. Often our vanity makes us think that this has happened to some of
us in the instance of one or more women. But honest