"Good-bye, captain."
"Good-bye. The next time you come with me I'll have the nga-pe all ready for you."
They were over the bridge, the guard of honour had presented arms, and the Reverend Doctor Habakkuk Smalley, American missionary, was introduced. Dr. Smalley performed the feat of shaking hands, of mopping his face with a red handkerchief, and of asking Jackson if he had "got it" all at once.
"Got it!" was the reply; "I should think we all did--got it nearly a mile up. It was most horrible!"
Dr. Smalley groaned aloud, and stretched forth both hands in protest. "Sir," he began, but Hawkshawe interposed.
"Excuse me for a moment, doctor, but I must introduce these people to the new king," and he led up the portly native treasury officer to the bewildered Jackson, who found himself compelled to make and to answer civil speeches, while he was wondering how he could have given offence. The presentations were rapidly brought to an end, and Hawkshawe urged a move toward breakfast, turning to include Dr. Smalley in the invitation; but the reverend gentleman was nowhere to be seen. He had stalked off in high dudgeon.
"I've done something to offend Dr. Smalley; let me go after him and explain, if I can, though what it can be I can't guess," said Jackson.
"I should think you have!" was the answer. "Fancy Smalley asking you his usual question about your certainty of your salvation, and only think of your reply!"
"But I meant that fearful-smelling compound!"
Hawkshawe's laugh pealed out loudly. "Well, if a man will speak of religion like the measles, he must expect to be misunderstood. But there is no use in saying anything now. I will square matters for you. Smalley is a very good fellow really, and you will get to like him and---- But you must be very hungry. My men will take your traps over to your own place, and you have to breakfast with me, and can then go on, if you like. Here is the trap. Jump in."