again. bery. Orders were promptly content. All that day we waited and all that night, but the Greek did not put in an appearance. Doubts began to raise their hydra heads and torment us with the thought that he might have gone to another store, but always we argued that it was the money he wanted, and the longer he held the ivory the greater became the danger. Finally, at lunch next day, word came in via the bush, that two tusks of ivory were coming down the trail. The little storekeeper hugged himself with glee, and we smiled sardonically. We sent out our boys to bring in the earliest possible news, and the administrator had a cell in the native gaol cleaned out and put in order. Everything was ready for M. Xavier's arrival! Towards four o'clock what had been merest suspicion hardened into a definite rumour. There was no white man with the safari. Could it be true! "He'd never trust a native with £160, surely," argued R., but as the hours went on the rumour was repeated and repeated until it was a moral certainty. The Greek had slipped us. Still, we had the ivory, though the revenge we had planned would have been so deliciously sweet. Towards dusk we heard that our boys and the police had taken charge of the safari, and so we rested The ivory was ours About half-past eight the boys arrived, and the headman of the safari was brought to the administrator's house. Yes," said the boy, in answer to our questions. "The master started with us seven days ago, but at M'pinda (a village quite close to the Great Bend) we heard that the Bwanas from Siwezi were leav ing their camp in a great hurry. My master sent us on alone, and he went back, and we are to take the money for this ivory back to Sultan M'kara, who will keep it for my master until he returns. "And where has your master gone?" asked R. sweetly. "I don't know, master, but I think a long way." "I'll bet he has," said R. bitterly. We confiscated the ivory, of course, and although the administrator was willing to send out a search party to round up the Greek, we decided to let the whole business slide. We shall meet him all right one day, never fear," said R. as we bade good-bye to the storekeeper, having seen our ivory safely labelled to the bank, and despatched by the store's own porters. "And when you see him, take my gun from him and keep it for me, will you!" begged the storekeeper. R. looked at me and I looked at him. We grinned. "Well, Sir Galahad! "I jibed, "by the time you have righted 'I've the wrongs of all these store- The final act was not played out until the following summer, when we happened to find ourselves at the Boma, P. We had had a long circular hunt lasting over four months, and feeling bored with each other and life in general, we decided to go into P for a week or two, and get some tennis (on their home-made courts) and some bridge. There # were two other Britishers in P and they were as pleased to see us as we were to see them, so that we made a very cheerful quartette. Things went with a swing for a week, and no happier folk could be imagined than we four. Then-it was on a Sunday evening, I rememberwe were sitting drinking our sundowners on the verandah when the policeman suddenly narrowed his eyes, and gazed up the big road into the setting sun. 'Surely no one else coming?" he muttered. We followed his glance. "It is," said R., whose eyes are phenomenally good. "It's a white person, too, judging by his loads." For a while we sat and watched the oncoming safari. It was easily a mile away, but something in the gait of the man leading made me pause. I ran for our glasses, and one look was sufficient. "The robber chief," I cried. "M. Xavier of the kingdom of Greece." "No!" said R., jumping to his feet. "It is, as sure as death," I repeated, and in a few more minutes there was no possible doubt about it. We watched the safari make camp some four hundred yards away, and then we turned to the administrator and told him the whole story of our connection with M. Xavier. Now what about it? asked R. "We want revenge!' "I should imagine so,' "" replied the A.O. in his best official manner, but you see all this occurred in foreign territory. I am quite helpless to assist you.' "Then must I be the law,' quoted R., and picking up his hippo whip from a chair, strode firmly to the door. "If he runs you in, I shall fine you five pounds for assault," called out the A.O. "It will be worth it," replied R. loftily, and in a few minutes was off along the road. Within ten minutes he was back again with his face as black as thunder. he challenged Mahommed to prove his words, and in the event of his not being able to "Nice sort of fool I am," he do so, claimed 3000 rupees growled challengingly. damages. I fell back into my chair. "For what?" I stammered. "Defamation of character," repeated R. seriously. Well, that is the limit! roared the policeman, and for the next minute or two we laughed until our sides ached. However, next morning at nine o'clock M. Xavier presented himself at the office of the A.O., and duly stated his case. His claim against Mahommed was for libellous utterances that had damaged his character severely. The words he complained of were: Mahommed's statements that he had engaged him (the Greek) to shoot elephants in Portuguese territory; (2) that Mahommed had given him 2000 rupees; (3) that he had given him six rifles. Furthermore, (1) That was the gist of the thing, and the A.O., when he had heard the claim and heard what Mahommed had to say, looked very black indeed. "I believe he'll get away with it, you know," he said, suddenly, at dinner that night. "Oh, never!" we protested violently. "He will, I'm certain," repeated the A.O. You see, the whole thing was sub rosa. Mahommed evidently trusted the old swine, and furthermore, he couldn't take a receipt for the rifles, because it's illegal for him to have firearms. Nor could he engage him to shoot ivory, because he can't take out a licence to import it into the country. So that he had to trust him." "Well, it's a howling shame if he does get away with it," broke out R. The law's an ass if it can't nab that old villain." The A.O. spread his hands. "I can only dispense justice as per the book of words," he said. "Cha! snorted R. "Bang him into jug and chance it!" Well, despite all our protests which were many-and all our threats-which were more the case proceeded, and as the A.O. had predicted, the Greek won. Mahommed simply hadn't a leg to stand on. He hadn't a shred of evidence to support his contention, and to all intents and purposes he had made very libellous statements against the shining whiteness of the character of M. Xavier, a Greek gentleman. Then came the question of the damages. With the yellow and black tooth flapping wildly in and out of his mouth, the unspeakable Greek made an impassioned speech for five thousand rupees. I could have shot him where he stood-the liar!-but, like all other sinners, he succeeded and was awarded five hundred rupees. R.'s curses were loud and long, and that night we sat in secret conclave with our old friend Mahommed. He simply had not got the five hundred, and we believed him. Poor old fellow, he was most terribly agitated. He would never be able to return to his village in India, and he hated and loathed the idea of dying in Africa. What could he do? And his family? Softly the Hindustani words floated into our ears. The little store faded back, and into my memory swam the picture of the old regiment as it swung down the Gharial Road to the church on the VOL. CCXVIII.-NO. MCCCXXII. 2 K A FOGGY AFFAIR. BY T. A. POWELL. On the lower reaches of the Tyne, where man has taken charge of this beautiful river and used it for his own purposes, one sees British industry in its most unattractive form. Rusty skeletons of half-built ships, squalid slums and coaling staiths jostle each other for room on the precious river frontage, while the air is full of the reek of furnaces and chemical works. If there be one reach more hideous than the rest, it is Jarrow Slake. Though one of the least desirable places in the British Isles, it is full of historical interest. Near this spot, a few years ago, were dredged up some old oak timbers, part of the foundations of a Roman bridge, probably built by the Emperor Severus. They were quite sound after having lain submerged for seventeen centuries. On the northern bank is the end of Hadrian's Wall, while on the Durham side is Bede's Church, all that remains of Jarrow Monastery. Here, during most of the war, moored head and stern in the dirty water, lay the old submarine depôt ship Bonaventure, with her port side within fifty yards of a row of decayed wooden piles marking the edge of a half-tide timber-pool on the southern bank. It was at We had six boats in the flotilla, which allowed for three to be berthed alongside the ship, one to be refitting, and the other two to be detached to a sub-depôt at Blyth, seven miles up the coast. C8" had seen much service, as submarines go. She was very small, and had but fifteen men in her crew; but she was my first command, and, as such, I was very proud of her. We were a training and coast defence flotilla; our days were spent in diving exercises off the coast, and our nights were spoilt by raids and rumours of raids. Often there would be a scare in the middle of the night, and a bugle would sound the call for submarine crews to man their boats-a particularly aggressive piece of music, which fills me with loathing A crowd of sleepy wretches in oilskins and seaboots would stumble along the greasy gang-planks and cast off the springs." The boats would glide out one by one into the darkness of mid-stream and pick their way past the moored steamers and barges to the open sea. Sometimes we lay at a buoy off Tynemouth in order to be ready to reach our patrol positions be |