Kenneth lay on his oars, and let the boat float wherever the tide cared to take her.
“What a lovely night, Archie!” said Kenneth at last. “What a lovely colour is in the sky! The clouds are gold, the sea is gold, the consuls’ houses and the sultan’s palace are roofed in gold, the lofty palm-trees are tipped with gold, and the waves are rippling and lisping on sands of gold.”
“Ah!” replied Archie, “my dear brother, your thoughts are steeped in gold. Morosco’s stories have given you gold fever—but there, I won’t laugh at you, for I tell you I know all your longings, and I, too, have the same.”
Kenneth stretched across the thwarts and pressed his friend’s hand.
“You’ll go,” he said, “you’ll come with me into the interior. You’ll brave danger? Everything?”
“Everything,” replied Archie. “We are young, strong, healthy, hearty; why should we not? But,” he continued, “while you have been dreaming I have been scheming. Zona, an Arab friend of mine, and a soldier, has been on expeditions into and beyond the Logobo country already; I have spoken to him, he is willing to venture with us. And so will Harvey.”
“Harvey?” said Kenneth.
“Yes, he is like ourselves, a Scot. He will, he says, do or dare anything for a change.”
“Hurrah!” cried Kenneth.