“HeavenknowswhereIhaven’tbeen。Andhere’souronlychance——andyougiveittothatadventurouslunatictoplayinhisownway——inabrig！”
　　“Well，youhadavoice——“
　　“IwishI’dbeeninthisbefore。WeoughttohaverunoutasteamertoLagosoroneofthoseWestCoastplacesanddoneitfromthere。Fancyabriginthechannelatthistimeofyear，ifitblowssouthwest！”
　　“Idessayyou’dhaveshovedit，George。Stillyouknow，George。Ibelieveinhim。”
　　“Yes。”Isaid。“Yes，Ibelieveinhim，too。Inaway。Still——“
　　Wetookupatelegramthatwaslyingonhisdeskandopenedit。
　　Hisfacebecamealividyellow。Heputtheflimsypaperdownwithaslow，reluctantmovementandtookoffhisglasses。
　　“George。”hesaid，“theluck’sagainstus。”
　　“What？”
　　Hegrimacedwithhismouth——inthequeerestwayatthetelegram。
　　“That。”
　　Itookitupandread：
　　“Motorsmashcompoundfractureoftheleggordonnasmythwhatpricemordetnow“
　　Foramomentneitherofusspoke。
　　“That’sallright。”Isaidatlast。
　　“Eh？”saidmyuncle。
　　“I’Mgoing。I’llgetthatquaporbust。”
　　IhadaridiculouspersuasionthatIwas“savingthesituation。”
　　“I’mgoing。”Isaidquiteconsciouslyanddramatically。Isawthewholeaffair——howshallIputit？——inAmericancolours。
　　Isatdownbesidehim。“Givemeallthedatayou’vegot。”I
　　said，“andI’llpullthisthingoff。”
　　“Butnobodyknowsexactlywhere——“
　　“Nasmythdoes，andhe’lltellme。”
　　“He’sbeenveryclose。”saidmyuncle，andregardedme。
　　“He’lltellmeallright，nowhe’ssmashed。”
　　Hethought。“Ibelievehewill。”
　　“George。”hesaid，“ifyoupullthisthingoff——Onceortwicebeforeyou’vesteppedin——withthatsortofWooshofyours——“
　　Heleftthesentenceunfinished。
　　“Givemethatnote-book。”Isaid，“andtellmeallyouknow。
　　Where’stheship？Where’sPollack？Andwhere’sthattelegramfrom？Ifthatquap’stobegot，I’llgetitorbust。Ifyou’llholdonhereuntilIgetbackwithit。”。
　　AndsoitwasIjumpedintothewildestadventureofmylife。
　　Irequisitionedmyuncle’sbestcarforthwith。IwentdownthatnighttotheplaceofdespatchnamedonNasmyth’stelegram，BamptonS。O。Oxon，routedhimoutwithalittletroublefromthatcentre，madethingsrightwithhimandgothisexplicitdirections；andIwasinspectingtheMaudMarywithyoungPollack，hiscousinandaide，thefollowingafternoon。Shewasratherashocktomeandnotatallinmystyle，abeastofabriginuredtothepotatotrade，andshereekedfromendtoendwiththefaint，subtlesmellofrawpotatoessothatitprevailedevenoverthetemporarysmellofnewpaint。Shewasabeastofabrig，allholdanddirtyframework，andtheyhadballastedherwitholdironandoldrailsandironsleepers，andgotamiscellaneouslotofspadesandironwheelbarrowsagainsttheloadingofthequap。IthoughtheroverwithPollack，oneofthosetallblondyoungmenwhosmokepipesanddon’thelpmuch，andthenbymyself，andasaresultIdidmybesttosweepGravesendcleanofwheelingplanks，andgotinasmuchcordandsmallropeasIcouldforlashing。Ihadanideawemightneedtorunupajetty。Inadditiontomuchballastsheheld，remotelyhiddeninasortofinadvertentwayacertainnumberofambiguouscaseswhichIdidn’texamine，butwhichIgatheredwereaprovisionagainsttheneedofatrade。
　　Thecaptainwasamostextraordinarycreature，undertheimpressionwewereaftercopperore；hewasaRoumanianJew，withtwitching，excitablefeatures，whohadmadehiswaytoacertificateaftersomepreliminarynavalexperiencesintheBlackSea。ThematewasanEssexmanofimpenetrablereserve。Thecrewwereastoundinglyill-cladanddestituteanddirty；mostofthemyouths，unwashed，outofcolliers。One，thecookwasamulatto；andone，thebest-builtfellowofthemall，wasaBreton。Therewassomesubterfugeaboutourpositiononboard——I
　　forgettheparticularsnow——IwascalledthesupercargoandPollackwasthesteward。ThisaddedtothepiraticalflavourthatinsufficientfundsandGordon-Nasmyth’soriginalgeniushadalreadygiventheenterprise。
　　ThosetwodaysofbustleatGravesend，underdingyskies，innarrow，dirtystreets，wereanewexperienceforme。Itislikenothingelseinmylife。IrealisedthatIwasamodernandacivilisedman。Ifoundthefoodfilthyandthecoffeehorrible；
　　thewholetownstankinmynostrils，thelandlordoftheGoodIntentonthequayhadastand-upquarrelwithusbeforeIcouldgetevenahotbath，andthebedroomIsleptinwasinfestedbyaquantityofexoticbutvoraciousflatparasitescalledlocally“bugs。”inthewalls，inthewoodwork，everywhere。Ifoughtthemwithinsectpowder，andfoundthemcomatoseinthemorning。
　　Iwasdippingdownintothedingyunderworldofthecontemporarystate，andIlikeditnobetterthanIdidmyfirstdipintoitwhenIstayedwithmyUncleNicodemusFrappatthebakeryatChatham——where，by-the-by，wehadtodealwithcockroachesofasmaller，darkervariety，andalsowithbugsofsorts。
　　LetmeconfessthatthroughallthistimebeforewestartedIwasimmenselyself-conscious，andthatBeatriceplayedthepartofaudienceinmyimaginationthroughout。Iwas，asIsay，“savingthesituation。”andIwasacutelyawareofthat。Theeveningbeforewesailed，insteadofrevisingourmedicine-chestasI
　　hadintended，ItookthecarandranacrosscountrytoLadyGrovetotellmyauntofthejourneyIwasmaking，dress，andastonishLadyOspreybyanafterdinnercall。
　　Thetwoladieswereathomeandalonebesideabigfirethatseemedwonderfullycheerfulafterthewinternight。Iremembertheeffectofthelittleparlourinwhichtheysatasverybrightanddomestic。LadyOsprey，inacostumeofmauveandlace，satonachintzsofaandplayedanelaboratelyspread-outpatiencebythelightofatallshadedlamp；Beatrice，inawhitenessthatshowedherthroat，smokedacigaretteinanarmchairandreadwithalampatherelbow。Theroomwaswhite-panelledandchintz-curtained。Aboutthosetwobrightcentresoflightwerewarmdarkshadow，inwhichacircularmirrorshonelikeapoolofbrownwater。Icarriedoffmyraidbybehavinglikeaslaveofetiquette。ThereweremomentswhenIthinkIreallymadeLadyOspreybelievethatmycallwasanunavoidablenecessity，thatitwouldhavebeennegligentofmenottocalljusthowandwhenIdid。Butatthebestthoseweretransitorymoments。
　　Theyreceivedmewithdisciplinedamazement。LadyOspreywasinterestedinmyfaceandscrutinisedthescar。Beatricestoodbehindhersolicitude。Oureyesmet，andinhersIcouldseestartledinterrogations。
　　“I’mgoing。”Isaid，“tothewestcoastofAfrica。”
　　Theyaskedquestions，butitsuitedmymoodtobevague。
　　“We’veintereststhere。ItisurgentIshouldgo。Idon’tknowwhenImayreturn。”
　　AfterthatIperceivedBeatricesurveyedmesteadily。
　　Theconversationwasratherdifficult。Iembarkeduponlengthythanksfortheirkindnesstomeaftermyaccident。ItriedtounderstandLadyOsprey’sgameofpatience，butitdidn’tappearthatLadyOspreywasanxiousformetounderstandherpatience。
　　Icametothevergeoftakingmyleave“Youneedn’tgoyet。”saidBeatrice，abruptly。
　　Shewalkedacrosstothepiano，tookapileofmusicfromthecabinetnear，surveyedLadyOsprey’sback，andwithagesturetomedroppeditalldeliberatelyontothefloor。
　　“Musttalk。”shesaid，kneelingclosetomeasIhelpedhertopickitup。“Turnmypages。Atthepiano。”
　　“Ican’treadmusic。”
　　“Turnmypages。”
　　Presentlywewereatthepiano，andBeatricewasplayingwithnoisyinaccuracy。SheglancedoverhershoulderandLadyOspreyhadresumedherpatience。Theoldladywasverypink，andappearedtobeabsorbedinsomeattempttocheatherselfwithoutourobservingit。
　　“Isn’tWestAfricaavileclimate？”“Areyougoingtolivethere？”“Whyareyougoing？”