CHAPTER XVIII 



FINIS 



Nine years of my life had been spent in Africa 

 when at last I saw the northern coast of Morocco 

 fade away into the blue of the horizon. Each 

 of those years had drawn me closer to this vast 

 continent. Africa with her mystery, her free- 

 dom, her untrammelled spaces, and her barbarism 

 had become my mistress, and I turned my face 

 to the North and the coast of Spain with a 

 regret softened by the knowledge that in a short 

 space of time I should set foot again on her 

 savage soil. The bonds had but been released 

 for a few weeks. Those shackles so subtly 

 forged are not fetters that easily are cast aside 

 for all time. I, for one, will ever return a willing 

 slave to worship at the shrine of the exquisite 

 goddess of Paganism who rules the Last 

 Continent. 



But two short months went by and I turned 

 my back on Gibraltar and held out my hands 

 in a token of submission to those northern 

 shores that creep down from the Atlas Range 

 to bathe in the brilliant blue of the Mediterranean, 

 and but a few weeks later the snow pinnacles 

 of Kenia were above me and the glory of the 

 morning made me sing for very joy that I was 

 again in serfdom. 



For what did I return ? Perhaps the spirit of 

 this book may answer. If this dedication to a 



259 



