They toiled, these white baases,
digging in the hillside and searching the riverbed; and then one day it
came to pass that they quarrelled and fought, and the baas with the
pictures was slain. We knew then that his medicine was bad medicine,
otherwise the white baas without the pictures could not have killed him. So we were wroth and made to slay the other baas, but he shot us down
with a fire stick and returned to his own country in haste. Then did I
take the skin from the dead baas, for I loved him for his pictures, and
I made them into a tomtom. I have spoken." "Good heavens!" exclaimed Jack when I had translated the story. "Then my
father was killed here in Barotseland, and it was Symes, his murderer,
who went back to Bulawayo. It was that fiend Symes, also, who took my
father's name, probably to draw any money that might have been left
behind, and who, as Richard Bridges, was hanged for murder. Poor old
dad," he added brokenly, "murdered, and his body mutilated by savages! But how glad I am to know that he died an honest man!" With the evidence at hand it was easy to prove the identity of the
murderer of twenty years ago, and, having settled the matter
satisfactorily and cleared the dead man's name, Jack and I returned to
England, where a few weeks later I had to purchase wedding garments in
order that I might play the part of best man at Jack's wedding. IV

THE CASE OF SIR ALISTER MOERAN


"Ethne?" My aunt looked at me with raised brows and smiled. "My dear
Maurice, hadn't you heard? Ethne went abroad directly after Christmas,
with the Wilmotts, for a trip to Egypt. She's having a glorious time!" I am afraid I looked as blank as I felt. I had only landed in England
three days ago, after two years' service in India, and the one thing I
had been looking forward to was seeing my cousin Ethne again. "Then, since you did not know she was away, you, of course, have not
heard the other news?" went on my aunt. "No," I answered in a wooden voice. "I've heard nothing." She beamed. "The dear child is engaged to a Sir Alister Moeran, whom she
met in Luxor. Everyone is delighted, as it is a splendid match for her. Lady Wilmott speaks most highly of him, a man of excellent family and
position, and perfectly charming to boot." I believe I murmured something suitable, but it was absurd to pretend to
be overjoyed at the news. The galling part of it was that Aunt Linda
knew, and was chuckling, so to speak, over my discomfiture. "If you are going up to Wimberley Park," she went on sweetly, "you will
probably meet them both, as your Uncle Bob has asked us all there for
the February house-party. He cabled an invitation to Sir Alister as soon
as he heard of the engagement. Wasn't it good of him?" I replied that it was; then, having heard quite enough for one day of
the charms of Ethne's _fiancé_, I took my leave. That night, after cursing myself for a churl, I wrote and wished her
good luck. The next morning I received a letter from Uncle Bob asking me
to go to Wimberley; and early in the following week I travelled up to
Cumberland. I received a warm welcome from the old General. As a boy I
used to spend the greater part of my holidays with him, and being
childless himself, he regarded me more or less as a son. On February 16th Ethne, her mother, and Sir Alister Moeran arrived. I
motored to the station to meet them. The evening was cold and raw and so
dark that it was almost impossible to distinguish people on the badly
lighted little platform. However, as I groped my way along, I recognised
Ethne's voice, and thus directed, hurried towards the group. As I did so
two gleaming, golden eyes flashed out at me through the darkness. "Hullo!" I thought. "So she's carted along the faithful Pincher!" But
the next moment I found I was mistaken, for Ethne was holding out both
hands to me in greeting. There was no dog with her, and in the bustle
that followed, I forgot to seek further for the solution of those two
fiery lights. "It was good of you to come, Maurice," Ethne said with unmistakable
pleasure, then, turning to the man at her side, "Alister, this is my
cousin, Captain Kilvert, of whom you have heard me speak." We murmured the usual formalities in the usual manner, but as my fingers
touched his, I experienced the most curious sensation down the region of
my spine. It took me back to Burma and a certain very uncomfortable
night that I once passed in the jungle. But the impression was so
fleeting as to be indefinable, and soon I was busy getting everyone
settled in the car. So far, except that he possessed an exceptionally charming voice, I had
no chance of forming an opinion of my cousin's _fiancé_. It was
half-past seven when we got back to the house, so we all went straight
up to our rooms to dress for dinner. Everyone was assembled in the drawing-room when Sir Alister Moeran came
in, and I shall never forget the effect his appearance made. Conversation ceased entirely for an instant. There was a kind of
breathless pause, which was almost audible as my uncle rose to greet
him. In all my life I had never seen a handsomer man, and I don't
suppose anyone else there had either. It was the most startling,
arresting style of beauty one could possibly imagine, and yet, even as I
stared at him in admiration, the word "Black!" flashed into my mind. Black! I pulled myself up sharply. We English, who have lived out in the
East, are far too prone to stigmatise thus anyone who shows the smallest
trace of being a "half breed"; but in Sir Alister's case there was not
even a suspicion of this. He was no darker than scores of men of my own
nationality, and besides, he belonged, I knew, to a very old Scottish
family. Yet, try as I would to strangle the idea, all through the
evening the same horrible, unaccountable notion clung to me. That he was the personality of the gathering there was not the slightest
doubt. Men and women alike seemed attracted by him, for his
individuality was on a par with his looks. Several times during dinner I glanced at Ethne, but it was easy to see
that all her attention was taken up by her lover. Yet, oddly enough, I
was not jealous in the ordinary way. I saw the folly of imagining that I
could stand a chance against a man like Moeran, and, moreover, he
interested me too deeply. His knowledge of the East was extraordinary,
and later, when the ladies had retired, he related many curious
experiences. "Might I ask," said my uncle's friend, Major Faucett, suddenly, "whether
you were in the Service, or had you a Government appointment out there?" Sir Alister smiled, and under his moustache I caught the gleam of
strong, white teeth. "As a matter of fact, neither. I am almost ashamed to say I have no
profession, unless I may call myself an explorer." "And why not?" put in Uncle Bob. "Provided your explorations were to
some purpose and of benefit to the community in general, I consider you
are doing something worth while." "Exactly," Sir Alister replied.