on their journey. Then he dismissed the
matter from his mind, for to tell the truth he never expected to hear of
them any more.

CHAPTER XV

ALAN FALLS ILL

After the departure of the messengers a deep melancholy fell upon Alan,
who was sure that he had now no further hope of communicating with the
outside world. Bitterly did he reproach himself for his folly in having
ever journeyed to this hateful place in order to secure--what? About
L100,000 worth of gold which of course he never could secure, as it
would certainly vanish or be stolen on its way to the coast. For this
gold he had become involved in a dreadful complication which must cost
him much misery, and sooner or later life itself, since he could not
marry that beautiful savage Asika, and if he refused her she would
certainly kill him in her outraged pride and fury.

Day by day she sent for him, and when he came, assumed a new character,
that of a woman humbled by a sense of her own ignorance, which she was
anxious to amend. So he must play the role of tutor to her, telling her
of civilized peoples, their laws, customs and religions, and instructing
her how to write and read. She listened and learned submissively enough,
but all the while Alan felt as one might who is called upon to teach
tricks to a drugged panther. The drug in this case was her passion for
him, which appeared to be very genuine. But when it passed off, or when
he was obliged to refuse her, what, he wondered, would happen then?

Anxiety and confinement told on him far more than all the hardships of
his journey. His health ran down, he began to fall ill. Then as bad luck
would have it, walking in that damp, unwholesome cedar garden, out of
which he might not stray, he contracted the germ of some kind of fever
which in autumn was very common in this poisonous climate. Three days
later he became delirious, and for a week after that hung between life
and death. Well was it for him that his medicine-chest still remained
intact, and that recognizing his own symptoms before his head gave way,
he was able to instruct Jeekie what drugs to give him at the different
stages of the disease.

For the rest his memories of that dreadful illness always remained very
vague. He had visions of Jeekie and of a robed woman whom he knew to be
the Asika, bending over him continually. Also it seemed to him that from
time to time he was talking with Barbara, which even then he knew must
be absurd, for how co