I am a modest man, and sensitive about my looks.' I brought him what he wanted, and looked on at an amazing transformation.

Taking a phial from his bundle, he rubbed some liquid on his face and neck and hands, and got rid of the black colouring.
His body and legs he left untouched, save that he covered them with shirt and trousers from my wardrobe.

Then he pulled off a scaly wig, and showed beneath it a head of close-cropped grizzled hair.

In ten minutes the old Kaffir had been transformed into an active soldierly-looking man of maybe fifty years.

Mr Wardlaw stared as if he had seen a resurrection.
'I had better introduce myself,' he said, when he had taken the edge off his thirst and hunger.