Carter waited till the man turned, ran in quickly, and plucked away his rifle. "And now," said he, "just let us understand one another exactly before we go any further. I'm standing quite all the risks from outside that I've any use for just at present. If there's any shooting to be done amongst ourselves, I prefer to do it myself. So first of all let's hear your trouble."
"In the first-a place I am not negro. I am European of blood-a as pure as your own, an' far-a-more ancient."
"If the apology I gave you just now doesn't cover that, I'll apologize some more for calling you a nigger. Furthermore, I didn't know that you claimed to be a gentleman, not that gentility is any excuse for not carrying out one's job here on the Coast."
"Senhor, you are handsome. And I agree with you that here in Africa we are all-a workmen, and must suffer if the work-a is not well done."
"Well," said Carter impatiently, "is that the lot? To my simple British mind your reasons for wanting to shoot me seem pretty thin so far. I suppose you are mad at my basting you this morning, but if you think the circumstances out coolly, I'm sure you'll see that we've women's lives to think of here as well as our own, and by letting the niggers you were overseeing scamp their work whilst you were dreaming over a cigarette, you were risking the safety of the fort."
"Senhor, do you know of what-a I was dreaming?"
"Private affairs probably, but anyway of something immaterial."
"Pardon, but I must tell-a you my dreaming. It was of a woman's life I dreamed."
Carter laughed shortly. "I think you had better leave it at that. It sticks in my mind that the three Portuguese ladies in this factory at Mokki are all officially protected by their lawful husbands, and I don't want to hear any embarrassing confidences."
"And may not a Portuguese gentleman, poor-a I grant you, but still of good blood, give-a his affection to a lady of another race?"