Chapter X:
Death of the Earl of Dubley

LORD DUBLEY set before the fire in his library when old Peter, his valet and faithful servant handed him the first photograph of Lucretia in the morning's mail.

The Earl looked earnestly at it, but when he realized that the handwriting was not that of Oliver, his features contracted and, opening a drawer to his desk, he slipped it gently within and locked it.

Many times when he was alone the little face of Lucretia kept him company and several times when Lord Montroy called he hardly had time to conceal his secret.

If Oliver had been less like his father and had taken the original of the photographs to Worcestershire to plead his forgiveness, or even had written himself along with the photograph which Eva so faithfully sent, the Earl would have relented and urged their return; for he felt the loneliness very keenly, especially when he thought of the beautiful grand-daughter so far away in Africa, who would bring sunshine into his castle.

When Oliver's letter accompanying the photograph arrived, it was with shaking hands and dazzling eyes that the old Earl first opened them.

Fortunate for him he did not understand Oliver's tidings about prospecting for minerals, but the world had changed for Lord Dubley, and now his face was all sunshine and, summoning his valet, he bade him call in his lawyer.

When old David Payton, the old family lawyer and friend arrived, he found the Earl still smiling and looking upon the row of photographs.

Lord Dubley made his will, bestowing upon Oliver the greater part of his private fortune, and completely restored him to his original good standing, forgetting neither Eva nor Lucretia.

After Mr. Payton retired, the Earl read Oliver's letter and began an immediate reply.

In the meantime Lord Montroy had met Mr. Servier in London and had learned of the preparation Oliver was making for the interior trip, which Mr. Servier disapproved, but had been unable to prevent. Hurrying to his club where his mail was sent, he found the letter from Oliver informing him of his early departure in January, during the dry season in Africa.

Lord Montroy took the noon train for Worcestershire and rushed to make a last plea with the Earl, his father, to prevent the mad attempt of Oliver.

Arriving at Dubley castle just at dusk, Lord Montroy hastened to his father's library. Walking in unannounced he saw the old Earl sitting in his chair, with the row of photographs propped before him, while in his left hand he held Oliver's open letter, and in the right the pen with which he had just signed his name to the following letter:

Dubley Castle,
Worcestershire.

My dear Oliver:

Your long expected letter has just reached me. We both have been too stubborn in our dispositions; but your dear wife has brought sunshine into my life for the last five years. Bring Eva and Lucretia at once to your dear old dad. I need little Lucretia's sweet face to cheer me.

Come at once to dad. All is forgiven.

Your father,

The Earl of Dubley.

And upon the Earl's face the smile remained after the spirit had taken its flight. So he was spared the tortures of the suspense and grief, soon to follow.

Lord Montroy hurriedly dispatched a cable to his brother:

Oliver Montcrief, Freetown, Sierra Leone,

C|o P.Z.& Co.,

Come at once. The Earl of Dubley died just after forgiving. Come by first steamer.

Harold.

Oliver and his party had left Freetown before the telegram arrived. Mr. Solomon dispatched Kiafa, a native messenger, to intercept Oliver enroute. Kiafa arrived at Pendembu, the first native town of consequence, two days after Oliver had left the town. The villagers were making merry over the birth of a young prince. Kiafa happened not to have been a Mohammedan, so he drank freely of the palm-wine and liquors, which were an important part of the celebration. The festivities lasted two weeks, after which time Kiafa recalled his mission, but decided that the hospitable town was preferable to the woods and so extended his visit two weeks longer.

When Kiafa finally decided to return to Freetown, he limped into Mr. Solomon's presence, a pitiable object in rags, with a harrowing tale of his bare escape in the jungles and the important report that Oliver had advanced far into the interior.

Mr. Solomon reported the circumstances to Lord Montroy, who anxiously awaited further tidings of Oliver.