The railway man passed him his key with a bored expression and no remark.
"Don't forget that I want you presently," he ordered. "Be quick and get your own dinner."
"I'm in love with this ivory hunt!" Fred whispered to us across the table. "If she's sure our pockets are worth going through, I'm sure there's something to look for!"
"Are you sure the maid went through our things?" asked Will.
"Quite. I left my shooting jacket hanging on a hook. Everything was emptied out of the pockets on to the berth."
"I think I'll make you a confession presently," said I, with a look at
Will that just then he did not understand.
"Never confess before dessert and coffee!" advised Fred. "It spoils the appetite."
CHAPTER FIVE
THE SLAVE GANGS
Our fathers praised the old accustomed things,
The privilege of chiefs, the village wall
Within whose circling dark Monumme* sings
O' nights of belly-full and ease and all
They taught us we should prize and praise
(Only of dearth and pestilence should be our fears;)
And now behind us are the green, regretted days.
The water in the desert is our tears.
Then ye, who at the waters drink
Of Freedom, oh with Pity think
On us, who face the desert brink
Your fathers entered willingly.