THE YELLOW GOD

AN IDOL OF AFRICA


By H. Rider Haggard



CHAPTER I

SAHARA LIMITED

Sir Robert Aylward, Bart., M.P., sat in his office in the City of
London. It was a very magnificent office, quite one of the finest that
could be found within half a mile of the Mansion House. Its exterior
was built of Aberdeen granite, a material calculated to impress the
prospective investor with a comfortable sense of security. Other stucco,
or even brick-built, offices might crumble and fall in an actual or a
financial sense, but this rock-like edifice of granite, surmounted by a
life-sized statue of Justice with her scales, admired from either corner
by pleasing effigies of Commerce and of Industry, would surely endure
any shock. Earthquake could scarcely shake its strong foundations; panic
and disaster would as soon affect the Bank of England. That at least
was the impression which it had been designed to convey, and not without
success.

"There is so much in externals," Mr. Champers-Haswell, Sir Robert's
partner, would say in his cheerful voice. "We are all of us influenced
by them, however unconsciously. Impress the public, my dear Aylward. Let