e risks, great
risks--fever, wild beasts, savages, and others that one cannot foresee.
Have I a right to expose her to them? Ought we not to go alone?"

"It would be useless," answered Meyer. "Those messengers have seen your
daughter, and mixed her up with their superstitious story of a ghost,
of which I, who know that there are no such things, believe nothing.
Without her now we shall certainly fail."

"As for the risks, father," said Benita, "personally I take no account
of them, for I am sure that what is to happen will happen, and if I knew
that I was to die upon the Zambesi, it would make no difference to me
who do not care. But as it chances, I think--I cannot tell you why--that
you and Mr. Meyer are in more danger than I am. It is for you to
consider whether you will take the risks."

Mr. Clifford smiled. "I am old," he said; "that is my answer."

"And I am accustomed to such things," said Meyer, with a shrug of his
shoulders. "Who would not run a little danger for the sake of such a
glorious chance? Wealth, wealth, more wealth than we can dream of,
and with it, power--power to avenge, to reward, to buy position, and
pleasure, and all beautiful things which are the heritage of the very
rich alone," and he spread out his hands and looked upwards, as though
in adoration of this golden god.

"Except such trifles as health and happiness," commented Benita, not
without sarcasm, for this man and his material desires disgusted her
somewhat, especially when she contrasted him with another man who
was lost to her, though it was true that _his_ past had been idle and
unproductive enough. Yet they interested her also, for Benita had never
met anyone like Mr. Meyer, so talented, so eager, and so soulless.

"Then I understand it is settled?" she said.

Mr. Clifford hesitated, but Meyer answered at once:

"Yes, settled as far as anything can be."

She waited a moment for her father to speak, but he said nothing; his
chance had gone by.

"Very well. Now we shall not need to trouble ourselves with further
doubts or argument. We are going to Bambatse on the Zambesi, a distant
place, to look for buried gold, and I hope, Mr. Meyer, that if you find
it, the results will come up to your expectations, and bring you all
sorts of good luck. Good-night, father dear, good-night."

"My daughter thinks it will bring us ill-luck," said Mr. Clifford, when
the door had closed behind her. "That is her way of saying so."

"Yes," an