Page:Hopkinson Smith--armchair at the inn.djvu/133

, sailed the same week for the Congo, and when I left Bangala for home had another caravan touring the country—bigger than the first—fitted out with the best that money could buy”

“Including his wives, of course,” suggested Louis.

“Yes, but not the lot he had left behind,” added Herbert slowly, a frown settling on his brow. “They had long since been wiped out of existence.”

The Architect pounded the table until the glasses rattled. “Superb! Magnificent! That finishes the libretto! Carré shan’t have it; I’ll write it myself! But tell me please, if”

Lemois opened his fingers deprecatingly, his gaze fixed good-naturedly on the speaker.

“You will pardon me, my dear friend, but Monsieur Herbert is only half through. He is not writing a play; he is introducing us to a higher standard of morals and perhaps of manners. Besides, if you listen you may get a fourth act and a climax which will be better than what you have. He has promised to convince Monsieur Le Blanc, who has not yet said a word, that the savage should not be burnt alive, and to convince me that there is some-