stantly conceived a deep mistrust of him. The fellow, however, was
inclined to be sociable.

"Ah, an Englishman," he said, coming up to Guy and holding out his hand,
an action which Guy professed not to see.

"You are going to Berbera, perhaps," he went on, nowise discomfited by
the rebuff.

"No," said Guy shortly. "To Zaila."

"Ah, yes, Zaila! You have friends there, perhaps? I, too, am acquainted.
I know very well Sir Arthur Ashby, the governor at Zaila."

His keen eyes scanned Guy's face closely, and noted the faint gleam of
surprise at this information.

But Guy was too clever to be thrown off his guard.

"Yes," he said. "I know 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 in 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 sleepi