"
"I intend to visit this Motombo," broke in Brother John with decision.
"Ditto, ditto," exclaimed Stephen, "but it's no use arguing that all
over again."
"No," I replied with irritation. "It is, as you remark, of no use
arguing with lunatics. So let's go to bed, and as it will probably be
our last, have a good night's sleep."
"Hear, hear!" said Stephen, taking off his coat and placing it doubled
up on the bed to serve as a pillow. "I say," he added, "stand clear a
minute while I shake this blanket. It's covered with bits of
something," and he suited the action to the word.
"Bits of something?" I said suspiciously. "Why didn't you wait a
minute to let me see them. I didn't notice any bits before."
"Rats running about the roof, I expect," said Stephen carelessly.
Not being satisfied, I began to examine this roof and the clay walls,
which I forgot to mention were painted over in a kind of pattern with
whorls in it, by the feeble light of the primitive lamps. While I was
thus engaged there was a knock on the door.
Pages:
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383