Something about the
appearance of this house impressed me with the idea that it was never
built by slavers; the whole look of the place with its verandah and
garden suggested taste and civilisation. Evidently educated people had
designed it and resided here. I glanced about me and saw, amidst a
grove of neglected orange trees that were surrounded with palms of
some age, the ruins of a church. About this there was no doubt, for
there, surmounted by a stone cross, was a little pent-house in which
still hung the bell that once summoned the worshippers to prayer.
"Tell the English lord," said Hassan to Sammy, "that these buildings
were a mission station of the Christians, who abandoned them more than
twenty years ago. When I came here I found them empty."
"Indeed," I answered, "and what were the names of those who dwelt in
them?"
"I never heard," said Hassan; "they had been gone a long while when I
came."
Then we went up to the house, and for the next hour and more were
engaged with our baggage which was piled in a heap in what had been
the garden and in unpacking and pitching two tents for the hunters
which I caused to be placed immediately in front of the rooms that
were assigned to us.
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