Plays: Lady Frederick, The Explorer, A Man of Honor Part 68

Alec was splendid, wasn't he?

DOCTOR.

Yes, by Jove! He thought we were done for.

d.i.c.k.

What makes you think that?

DOCTOR.

Well, you see, I know him pretty well. He's been a pal of yours for twenty years in England, but I've been with him out here three times, and I tell you there's not much about a man that you don't know then.

d.i.c.k.

Well?

DOCTOR.

Well, when things are going smoothly and everything's flourishing, he's apt to be a bit irritable. He keeps rather to himself, and he doesn't say much unless you do something he doesn't approve of.

d.i.c.k.

And then, by Jove, he comes down on one like a thousand of bricks. It's not for nothing the natives call him Thunder and Lightning.

DOCTOR.

But when things begin to look black, his spirits go up like one o'clock.

And the worse they are, the more cheerful he is.

d.i.c.k.

It's one of his most irritating characteristics.

DOCTOR.

When every one is starving with hunger, and dead tired, and soaked to the skin, Mackenzie fairly bubbles over with good-humour.

d.i.c.k.

When I'm in a bad temper, I much prefer every one else to be in a bad temper too.

DOCTOR.

These last few days, he's been positively hilarious. Yesterday he was cracking jokes with the natives.

d.i.c.k.

[_Dryly._] Scotch jokes. I daresay they sound funny in an African dialect.

DOCTOR.

I've never seen him more cheerful. I said to myself: By the Lord Harry, the chief thinks we're in a devil of a bad way.

d.i.c.k.

Thank Heaven, it's all over now. We've none of us had any sleep for three days, and when I once get off, I don't mean to wake up for a week.

DOCTOR.

I must go and see the rest of my patients. Perkins has got a bad dose of fever this time. He was quite delirious a while ago.

d.i.c.k.

By Jove, I'd almost forgotten. How one changes out here! Here am I feeling happy and comfortable and inclined to make a little jest or two, and I've forgotten already that poor Richardson is dead and Lord knows how many natives.

DOCTOR.

Poor chap, we could ill spare him. The fates never choose the right man.

d.i.c.k.

What do you mean by that?

DOCTOR.

If we had to lose some one, it would have been a d.a.m.ned sight better if that young cub had got the bullet which killed poor Richardson.

d.i.c.k.

George Allerton?

DOCTOR.

He wouldn't have been much loss, would he?

d.i.c.k.

No, I'm afraid he wouldn't.

DOCTOR.

Mackenzie has been very patient with him. I wonder he didn't send him back to the coast months ago, when he sacked Macinnery.

d.i.c.k.

Poor George, everything has been against him.