They all assembled in the grotto again for the purpose of getting some sleep.
“Another rough night coming on!” said Tom, pointing to the heavy clouds that hung over the horizon.
“No doubt, Tom!” answered Dick, “and I think we may congratulate ourselves on being safe out of our poor ship.”
As the night could not be otherwise than very dark, it was arranged that the negroes should take their turns in keeping guard at the entrance of the grotto. Dingo also would be upon the alert.
Benedict had not yet returned. Hercules shouted his name with the full strength of his capacious lungs, and shortly afterwards the entomologist was seen making his way down the face of the cliff at the imminent risk of breaking his neck. He was in a great rage. He had not found a single insect worth having; scorpions, scolopendra, and other Myriapoda were in the forest in abundance; but not one of these of course could be allowed a place in his collection.
“Have I come six thousand miles for this?” he cried: “have I endured storm and shipwreck only to be cast where not a hexapod is to be seen? The country is detestable! I shall not stay in it another hour!”
Ever gentle to his eccentricities, Mrs. Weldon soothed him as she would a child; she told him that he had better take some rest now, and most likely he would have better luck tomorrow.
Cousin Benedict had hardly been pacified when Tom remarked that Negoro too had not returned.
“Never mind!” said Bat, “his room is as good as his company.”
“I cannot say that I altogether think so. The man is no favourite of mine, but I like him better under my own eye,” said Mrs. Weldon.
“Perhaps he has his own reasons for keeping away,” said Dick, and taking Mrs. Weldon aside, he communicated to her his suspicions of the fellow’s dishonesty.
He found that she coincided with him in her view of Negoro’s conduct; but she did not agree with him in his proposal to have him searched at once. If he returned, she should be convinced that he had deposited the money in some secret spot; and as there would be no proof of his guilt, it would be better to leave him, at least for a time, uninterrogated.
Dick was convinced by her representations, and promised to act upon her advice.
Before they resigned themselves to sleep, they had repeatedly summoned Negoro back, but he either could not or would not hear. Mrs. Weldon and Dick scarcely knew what to think; unless he had lost his way; it was unaccountable why he should be wandering about alone on a dark night in a strange country.
Presently Dingo was heard barking furiously. He had left the opening of the grotto, and was evidently down at the water’s edge. Imagining that Negoro must be coming, Dick sent three of the negroes in the direction of the river to meet him; but when they reached the bank not a soul could be seen, and as Dingo was quiet again, they made their way back to the grotto.
Excepting the man left on watch, they now all lay down, hoping to get some repose. Mrs. Weldon, however, could not sleep. The land for which she had sighed so ardently had been reached, but it had failed to give either the security or the comfort which she had anticipated!
XV
A Stranger
At daybreak, next morning, Austin, who happened to be on guard, heard Dingo bark, and noticed that he started up and ran towards the river. Arousing the inmates of the grotto, he announced to them that someone was coming.
“It isn’t Negoro,” said Tom; “Dingo would bark louder than that if Negoro were to be seen.”
“Who, then, can it be?” asked Mrs. Weldon, with an inquiring glance towards Dick.
“We must wait and see, madam,” replied Dick quietly.
Bidding Bat, Austin, and Hercules follow his example, Dick Sands took up a cutlass and a rifle, into the breech of which he slipped a cartridge. Thus armed, the four young men made their way towards the river bank. Tom and Actaeon were left with Mrs. Weldon at the entrance of the grotto.
The sun was just rising. Its rays, intercepted by the lofty range of mountains in the east, did not fall directly on the cliff; but the sea to its western horizon was sparkling in the sunbeams as the party marched along the shore. Dingo was motionless as a setter, but did not cease barking. It soon proved not to be his old enemy who was disturbing him. A man, who was not Negoro, appeared round the angle of the cliff, and advancing cautiously along the bank of the stream, seemed by his gestures to be endeavouring to pacify the dog, with which an encounter would certainly have been by no means desirable.
“That’s not Negoro!” said Hercules.
“No loss for any of us,” muttered Bat.
“You are right,” replied Dick; “perhaps he is a native; let us hope he may be able to tell us our whereabouts, and save us the trouble of exploring.”
With their rifles on their shoulders, they advanced steadily towards the new arrival. The stranger, on becoming aware of their approach, manifested great surprise; he was apparently puzzled as to how they had reached the shore, for the Pilgrim had been entirely broken up during the night, and the spars that were floating about had probably been too few and too scattered to attract his attention. His first attitude seemed to betray something of fear; and raising to his shoulder a gun that had been slung to his belt, he began to retrace his steps; but conciliatory gestures on the part
