eth where it listeth,
and none can tell what germs it bears. It seems hardly credible that the
Plateau, no bigger than a cricket field, far away in the waste land of
Central Africa, can be the only spot on this planet where the magic
leaf grows in sufficient profusion to supply suffering humanity with an
alleviating drug, unrivalled--a strength-giving herb, unapproached in
power. But as yet no other Simiacine has been found and the Plateau is
lost.

And the end of it was two men who had gone to look for it two years
before--young and hearty--returning from the search successful beyond
their highest hopes, with a shadow in their eyes and grey upon their
heads.

They sat for nearly two hours in that room in the quiet house in Russell
Square, where the cabs do not pass; and their conversation was of
money. They sat until they had closed the Simiacine account, never to
be reopened. They discussed the question of renouncement, and, after due
consideration, concluded that the gain was rightly theirs seeing that
the risk had all been theirs. Slaves and slave-owner had both taken
their cause to a Higher Court, where the defendant has no worry and the
plaintiff is at rest. They were beyond the reach of money--beyond the
glitter of gold--far from the cry of anguish. A fortune was set aside
for Marie Durnovo, to be held in trust for the children of the man who
had found the Simiacine Plateau; another was apportioned to Joseph.

"Seventy-seven thousand one hundred and four pounds for you," said Jack
Meredith at length, laying aside his pen, "seventy-seven thousand one
hundred and four pounds for me."

"And," he added, after a little pause, "it was not worth it."

Guy Oscard smoked his pipe and shook his head.

"Now," said Jack Meredith, "I must go. I must be out of London by
to-morrow morning. I shall go abroad--America or somewhere."

He rose as he spoke, and Oscard made no attempt to restrain him.

They went out into the passage together. Oscard opened the door and
followed his companion to the step.

"I suppose," said Meredith, "we shall meet some time--somewhere?"

"Yes."

They shook hands.

Jack Meredith went down the steps almost reluctantly. At the foot of the
short flight he turned and looked up at the strong, peaceful form of his
friend.

"What will you do?" he said.

"I shall go back to my big-game," replied Guy Oscard. "I am best at
that. But I shall not go to Africa."

CHAPTER XLIII. A LONG DEBT