He was black, very black; but his manners were easy, and his bearing self-possessed.
He nodded smilingly to Sanders and extended a lazy hand.
"Ah, Mr. Commissioner," he said in faultless English, "I have heard a great deal about you."
"Get out of that chair," said Sanders, who had no small talk worth mentioning, "and stand up when I come out to you! What do you want?"
The Reverend Kenneth rose quickly, and accepted the situation with a rapidity which will be incomprehensible to any who do not know how thumbnail deep is the cultivation of the cultured savage.
"I am on a brief visit," he said, a note of deference in his tone. "I am taking the small towns and villages along the coast, holding services, and I desire permission to speak to your people."
This was not the speech he had prepared. He had come straight from England, where he had been something of a lion in Bayswater society, and where, too, his theological attainments had won him regard and no small amount of fame in even a wider circle.
"You may speak to my people," said Sanders; "but you may not address the Kano folk nor the Houssas, because they are petrified in the faith of the Prophet."
Regaining his self-possession, the missionary smiled.
"To bring light into dark places——" he began.