“In two or three weeks’ time,” I answered.
“By Jove, but I would like to go with you. I’d like to make a little for myself. I want it all, I can tell you. But even that’s not the first consideration. I’d like to see those parts and gain some experience. You wouldn’t find me in the way, I promise you. I’d do every mortal thing you said—and keep out of ructions, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“What about the farm?” I answered. “Your uncle isn’t equal to looking after it single handed.”
“Oh, that might be arranged. That chap you sent us—Ivondwe—is worth his weight in gold—in fact I never would have believed such a thing as a trustworthy nigger existed, before he came.”
Now I have already put on record that the last thing on earth I desired was Falkner’s company on the expedition I was planning—and the same still held good—and yet—and yet—he was Aïda Sewin’s relative and she seemed to take a great interest in him. Perhaps it was with an idea of pleasing her—or I wonder if it was a certain anxiety as to leaving this young man at her side while I was away myself, goodness knows, but the fact remains that before we reached my place he had extracted from me what was more than half a promise that I would entertain the idea.
And this I knew, even then, was tantamount to an entire promise.