Ned had a notion that this bright, strong, swarthy man, with his air of interest, was drawing them out for some purpose of his own, and was reading them all the time he asked questions and listened to their replies.
But he did not mind being studied, as his record and those of his companions were clean ones. Besides, he found it a pleasure to give his confidence to this man, for already he liked him very greatly, and felt that he would not be misjudged.
So the three lads rattled on, recalling incidents of victories won in the class and in the field, while Mr Martin listened with his keen, bright eyes glowing upon them alternately, as if in his heart he was moving again with them through those merry past times.
Mr Raybold also sat looking at them and listening with the indulgent smile of a genial host, who is pleased to find his guests enjoying themselves.
It was a good dinner, and the lads did full justice to it, in spite of their chatter, for they had brought with them good travellers’ appetites. The solids disappeared rapidly as they were placed before them, without in the least spoiling their zest for the dessert. The wines, however, they did not touch, which Mr Martin also abstained from. Mr Raybold was the only one who indulged in anything stronger than water.
“What do you drink?” asked Mr Martin, during a pause.
“Water,” answered our heroes.
“Right you are. That is my tipple also when I can get it; but in Africa one has to grow accustomed to moderate their desires even in this indulgence—particularly when on an exploring expedition.”
“And that was our intention in coming out to Africa.”
“You’ll have your chance, never fear. There is plenty of ground yet left to explore, and lots of big game to bag up-country.”