Afterthisentrymanypageswereutterlyeffaced。
Thelastlegiblepassageranasfollows——“SoguidedbytheladJeekie，andwearingthegoldmask，LittleBonsa，onmyhead，Iranthroughthemall，holdinghimbythehandasthoughIweredragginghimaway。
AstrangespectacleImusthavebeenwithmyoldblackclergyman’scoatbuttonedaboutme，mynakedlegsandthegoldmask，aspretendingtobeadevilsuchastheyworship，Irushedthroughtheminthemoonlight，blowingthewhistleinthemaskandbellowinglikeabull……Suchwasthebeginningofmydreadfulsixmonths’journeytothecoast。SettingasidethemercyofProvidencethatpreservedmeforitsownpurposes，IcouldneverhavelivedtoreachithaditnotbeenforLittleBonsa，sincecuriouslyenoughIfoundthisfetishknownanddreadedforhundredsofmiles，andthatbypeoplewhohadneverseenit，yes，evenbythewildcannibals。Wheneveritwasproducedfood，bearers，canoes，orwhateverelseImightwantwereforthcomingasthoughbymagic。GreatisthefameofBigandLittleBonsainallthatpartofWestAfrica，although，strangeasitmayseem，theoutlyingtribesseldommentionthembyname。Iftheymustspeakofeitheroftheseimageswhicharesupposedtobemanandwife，theycallitthe’Yellow-God-who-lives-yonder。’“
NotanotherwordofallthisstrangehistorycouldAlandecipher，sowithachingeyesheshutupthestainedandtatteredvolume，andatlast，justasthedaywasbreaking，fellasleep。
Ateleveno’clockonthatsamemorning，forhehadsleptlate，AlanrosefromhisbreakfastandwenttosmokehispipeattheopendoorofthebeautifuloldhallinYarleysthatwascladwithbrownElizabethanoakforwhichanydealerwouldhavegivenhundredsofpounds。Itwasacharmingmorning，oneofthosethatcomestoussometimesinanEnglishAprilwhentheairissoftlikethatofItalyandthesmelloftheearthriseslikethatofincense，andlittlecloudsfloatidlyacrossaskyoftenderblue。Standingthushelookedoutupontheparkwheretheelmsalreadyshowedatingeofgreenandtheash-budswerecoalblack。Onlythewalnutsandthegreatoaks，someofthempollardsofathousandyearsofage，remainedstarkandsternintheirwinterdress。