with him in the cabin, and went on deck to see the moorings cast.

Suddenly there was a bustle on the quay, and a big man
with a handbag forced his way up the gangway. The men who
were getting ready to cast off tried to stop him, but he elbowed
his way forward, declaring he must see the captain. Tam went
up to him and asked civilly if he had a passage taken. He
admitted he had not, but said he would make it right in two
minutes with the captain himself. The Rev. John Laputa, for
some reason of his own, was leaving Durban with more haste
than he had entered it.

I do not know what passed with the captain, but the minister
got his passage right enough, and Tam was even turned out of his
cabin to make room for him. This annoyed my friend intensely.

'That black brute must be made of money, for he paid
through the nose for this, or I'm a Dutchman. My old man
doesn't take to his black brethren any more than I do. Hang it
all, what are we coming to, when we're turning into a blooming
cargo boat for niggers?'

I had all too little of Tam's good company, for on the
afternoon of the second day we reached the little town of
Lourenco Marques. This was my final landing in Africa, and I
mind how eagerly I looked at the low, green shores and the
bush-covered slopes of the mainland. We were landed from
boats while the ship lay out in the bay, and Tam came ashore
with me to spend the evening. By this time I had lost every
remnant of homesickness. I had got a job before me which