"A blackguard--a damned
blackguard," he added unofficially under his breath.
"He wants continual watching and a special treatment. He requires
someone constantly at his heels."
"Yes, sir," admitted Joseph, with some fervour.
"Now I am ordered home by the doctor," went on Meredith. "I must go
by the next boat, but I don't like to go and leave Mr. Oscard in the
lurch, with no one to fall back upon but Durnovo--you understand."
Joseph's face had assumed the habitual look of servitude--he was no
longer a partner, but a mere retainer, with a half-comic resignation
in his eyes.
"Yes, sir," scratching the back of his neck. "I am afraid I
understand. You want me to go back to that Platter--that God-
forsaken Platter, as I may say."
"Yes," said Meredith. "That is about it. I would go myself--"
"God bless you! I know you would!" burst in Joseph. "You'd go like
winkin'. There's no one knows that better nor me, sir; and what I
says is--like master, like man. Game, sir--game it is! I'll go.
I'm not the man to turn my back on a pal--a--a partner, sir, so to
speak."
"You see," said Meredith, with the deep insight into men that made
command so easy to him--"you see there is no one else. There is not
another man in Africa who could do it."
"That's true, sir.
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