Читать книгу A King by Night онлайн

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"Do you mean that the Terror knows where my uncle is?"

The other nodded.

"Of course. We know that Trevors spoke about Bonginda; we have the undoubted fact that this fearful night-bird calls himself the King of Bonginda—the association is complete. Otherwise, why should you, of all the visitors to this country, be signalled [Transcriber's note: singled?] out for attack? Have you a photograph of your uncle, by the way?"

She had one in her trunk, and went up and fetched it. Selby carried it to the window and looked long and earnestly upon the thin features of the missing man. The face was weak, in spite of the breadth of forehead, the chin small, the mouth indecisive. The portrait showed only the head and the sloping hock-bottle shoulders, but, comparing it with a portrait which was already in his possession, Selby formed a new idea of the man.

"It is not a strong face," he said as he handed the photograph back. "By the way, I should like to keep that, if I may? May I? Thank you."

He put the photograph in his inside pocket.