Well,” said I, laughing, “for your sake I am glad that I am an American, and not a Frenchman, and that we can understand each other perfectly without an interpreter.  I see that the Arabs are wondering that you, an Englishman, and I, an American, understand each other.  We must take care not to tell them that the English and Americans have fought, and that there are `Alabama’ claims left unsettled, and that we have such people as Fenians in America, who hate you.  But, seriously, Doctor—­now don’t be frightened when I tell you that I have come after—­you!”

“After me?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Well.  You have heard of the `New York Herald?’”

“Oh—­who has not heard of that newspaper?”

“Without his father’s knowledge or consent, Mr. James Gordon Bennett, son of Mr. James Gordon Bennett, the proprietor of the `Herald,’ has commissioned me to find you—­to get whatever news of your discoveries you like to give—­and to assist you, if I can, with means.”

“Young Mr. Bennett told you to come after me, to find me out, and help me!  It is no wonder, then, you praised Mr. Bennett so much last night.”

“I know him—­I am proud to say—­to be just what I say he is.  He is an ardent, generous, and true man.”

“Well, indeed!  I am very much obliged to him; and it makes me feel proud to think that you Americans think so much of me.  You have just come in the proper time; for I was beginning to think that I should have to beg from the Arabs.  Even they are in want of cloth, and there are but few beads in Ujiji.  That fellow Sherif has robbed me of all.  I wish I could embody my thanks to Mr. Bennett in suitable words; but if I fail to do so, do not, I beg of you, believe me the less grateful.”

“And now, Doctor, having disposed of this little affair, Ferajji shall bring breakfast; if you have no objection.”

“You have given me an appetite,” he said.

“Halimah is my cook, but she never can tell the difference between tea and coffee.”

Ferajji, the cook, was ready as usual with excellent tea, and a dish of smoking cakes; “dampers,” as the Doctor called them.  I never did care much for this kind of a cake fried in a pan, but they were necessary to the Doctor, who had nearly lost all his teeth from the hard fare of Lunda.  He had been compelled to subsist on green ears of Indian corn; there was no meat in that district; and the effort to gnaw at the corn ears had loosened all his teeth.  I preferred the corn scones of Virginia, which, to my mind, were the nearest approach to palatable bread obtainable in Central Africa.

The Doctor said he had thought me a most luxurious and rich man, when he saw my great bath-tub carried on the shoulders of one of my men; but he thought me still more luxurious this morning, when my knives and forks, and plates, and cups, saucers, silver spoons, and silver teapot were brought forth shining and bright, spread on a rich Persian carpet, and observed that I was well attended to by my yellow and ebon Mercuries.