"I traveled from the mouth of the Congo River," returned Van.
"What purpose had you in risking your life to make such a dangerous journey?"
"I came here partly because I am following a man who murdered my uncle, and whom I have sworn to take back to the United States, if he is not killed before I am able to do it."
"You said 'partly'; you must have another reason for coming here, then?"
"Yes; I fell in with some Englishmen, who were starting on an exploring trip, and joined their party."
"Where are they now?" asked the man.
"In the house where you found me—or, at least, they were the last I saw of them."
"You say in the house where I found you. How do you know but that you are in the same house yet?"
"I might be, but I don't believe it. That building was an old, tumble-down affair, and, judging from the appearance of this room, this is not."
"You are right, boy. You are two miles from the place where you had the fall. I had been out setting a trap to catch a lion, and on my way back stopped in the cellar of the old building. Almost the first thing I stumbled upon was your body, and, finding that you were one of my own nationality, apparently, I threw you upon my horse's back and brought you here."