the noon of the third day; but in spite of all the vigor the boys could put forth -and to the poor fellows' credit they rowed most stanchly-hour after hour dragged away, and night had almost come again before the boat, after a brief struggle with the sea, buried its nose in the sand of the beach at the base of a great bluff, shaped in the fancied resemblance to the head of a snake. James left the boys by their craft, which they drew up on the beach, and gave them the remainder of the spirits in the keg; and so pleased were they with the present, that they immediately forgot all their past troubles, and set themselves down in a circle on the sand to finish it, oblivious of him and his companion.

Owing to the increasing darkness the arrival of the boat had not been noticed by any one on shore, and when James entered the factory, which was situated round a corner of the great cliff that rose out of the sea, he found it tenanted by a single snuff-colored half-bred, with unmistakable wool on his little round head, which he scratched sleepiiy, as he welcomed James in Portuguese, evidently not exactly understanding where he had come from.

But when this youth perceived Margaret, who had at first remained outside the door, his surprise knew no bounds. He leaped clear into the air with astonishment, and with difficulty recovering, stood gazing at her open-mouthed.

So fair a creature, this poor half negro, half Portuguese, had never seen or dreamed of.

And she was different from the brown-eyed, woolly-headed mulatto girls he had known in his rare visits to the town of St. Paul de Loanda, or even to the ivory-tinted, black-eyed Portuguese ladies he had seen in that city, as, lying back in their maxillas, they passed him by in the streets. And, in truth, the three, as they stood in the lamplight of the rough wooden bungalow, made sufficiently distinct pictures. James, tall, brown-haired, and resolute; Margaret, pale and frightened; and in the background the short squat figure and duncolored face of the half-bred. Never had he heard of the presence of the Englishwoman on the coast, and now she stood before him.

James took him by the arm and shook

him out of his trance, and then he became at once all hospitality. He bustled about and roused out all his servants, and quickly had the remainder of his late dinner put on the table-oily fried fish, oily fowl soup, and stewed fowls smothered in little round beans drenched in oil. He got out a jar of his favorite olives, and slipped them into a little basin of water, and with his own hands drew a large goblet of “vinho tinto," the best wine he had, from a cask that stood in a corner.

As for the Senhora proceeding on her journey that night, he could not hear of it.

He should feel too much responsibility if he permitted it-he should indeed. And he placed a plump, brown, and dirty hand in the bosom of his colored shirt, and bowed to the ground.

But James gave him to understand that it was imperative that the Senhora should go on, and that she would be much beholden to him if he would procure bearers for her; and Margaret looking acquiescence in this, Senho Pepe at once hurried outside, and after a while came back with the information that he had, much against his will, sent messengers to the native village for the bearers.

Then he returned to the duties of the table, and, waiting on Margaret himself, pressed her vigorously to eat of all the oily little dishes, only pausing to gaze at her with such serious admiration, that she could not help smiling at him, when he would nod and and laugh in reply, and drink glass after glass of the vinho tinto to her health. But James was all impatience, and now the shuffling of bare feet was heard on the soil outside the factory, and stopped suddenly at the door, and guttural voices rose on the night air. Then torn cloths were tightened as rations were distributed by the Senhor Pepe, who disputed, argued with, and abused the bearers at one and the same time at the top of his shrill voice. At last, all preparations being completed to his satisfaction, Margaret lay in her hammock, her head pillowed on one of the little man's own greasy pillows.

There were six men to carry her, two at a time, and James was glad to see by the torchlight that they were all strong full-grown bearers, fit for the long jour

ing. Nor could the men in peril aid themselves, for the hammocks with their poles had been taken over on the first voyage. The canoe drifted swiftly down toward the mouth of the river, and was almost at once lost to sight, and the cries of the men after a while were not heard. Though it was probable that they all swam ashore, yet not one of them was seen again on either bank of the river.

The

By this disaster, then, at one stroke James lost two-thirds of the bearers, and had not any way by which he might replace them, for he could not cross to the village, and he dared not stay until daylight to be seen from the opposite bank. So he set out again with the remaining four men, but with a sinking heart. And soon he felt that they were not able for the task before them. two who carried Margaret went lightly enough for a while, but his own boys almost at once began to lag wearily behind, and went slower and slower through the tiring long grass, studded with spiky palms and cactus-bush, until just before daybreak they came to a halt on rising ground, beneath a huge stoutlimbed tree, and cried for help to those in front.

But this James would not allow, and jumped from the hammock, when the poor sweat-soaked, sore-footed creatures threw themselves on the ground at the foot of the tree, and lay there as if they never meant to rise. It was only the urgent necessity of the case

how urgent he did not then knowthat made James threaten to use blows to them to get them on their feet.

The men who carried Margaret, easily disheartened by this state of their comrades, now pretended to show distress, and it was with many protestations and much unwillingness that they took the hammock-pole upon their shoulders, and again went forward with her. James half walked, half ran, by her side, encouraging them, while his own men brought up the rear with his empty hammock. In this way another start was made, and the men kept going through the early morning hours.

They had now got upon a long curve of sandy beach, and James calculated that there were not more than a dozen miles between them and Kabooka, and by-and-by he fancied he could see in the

distance the nearest headland of it standing out above the slight mist. But after some time, happening to look behind him over the long stretch of glistening sand, with its tracery of surf, over which they had come, he thought he saw certain black specks a great way off moving along. He clutched the arm of the bearer nearest to him, and bade him look also as he ran; and the longsighted negro at once said the black specks were men, and that they carried a hammock.

James said nothing, except to urge his men to go faster. He new them too well to use violence to them at this critical moment, for with their friends in sight they would simply have stopped short; so he cheered them by voice and gesture, even joking with them. Yet the black specks grew steadily, and within two hours could be made out quite distinctly. There were eight of them carrying one white man. Consequently the bearers were changed so frequently that there was no chance of escape from them by flight, even if James's men had not told him they would stop. To this he responded by pointing to the headland, now quite clear, ahead, and promised to each man 150 yards of panno da costa (cloth of the coast) if he made yet another effort. As this offer was something great in its liberality they all raised a shout, and starting forward did their best to increase their pace, and for some short time the sand flew beneath their feet; but suddenly the effort died away, and they came to a dead stop completely done.

By this time the pursuers had come so near that their shouts were heard; and Margaret, who had hitherto lain quite still and silent, raised herself in her hammock and for the first time saw them. She divined at once who it was that followed, and whispering Chaves!" clung to James's arm. It was the Portuguese. There was no mistaking his figure and face as triumphant he rose from his hammock and ran forward gun in hand.

Then James put into execution the plan he had kept to the last. He called the two men who had carried him, and placing Margaret in his own hammock he set all four men to the pole. 'A casa! a casa!" (to the house! to the

house!) he shouted; and the men, catching something of his excitement and meaning, with one effort staggered away long the beach.

The Portuguese had now come within fifty yards of the lad, who waited for him, and Chaves, seeing his advance barred, also halted, and the two men stood confronting each other, the black boys standing well to one side of their master. His irresolution was but momentary, and summoning James in a hoarse voice to stand aside he again advanced. To this the lad responded by cocking his rifle and retreating slowly. His eyes were steady and his lips firm set, and there was not the slightest sign of flinching on his face, which was slightly flushed. "Guarda! guarda!"' shouted the Portuguese, and brought his rifle to the present. All the natives fell flat on their faces on the sand. Both men fired simultaneously, and James flung up his arms, staggered convulsively for a second or two, and fell a huddled-up heap on the sand.

"Ah!" shouted the Portuguese as he ran forward. There was neither sound nor motion from his prostrate foe, and stooping down he turned the body over. Then he thrust his hand beneath the rough shirt and withdrew it-it was bloody. After this he stood in the bright sunlight dazed for a few moments. He had not thought to kill the boy outright. But a quick revulsion of feeling seized him, and he spurned the body with his foot. Then he turned to call his bearers, but not one was to be seen. At the discharge of the fire arms they had all run into the bush, and the only objects in view were the men who still carried Margaret. Roused by the sight, the Portuguese shouted for his slaves, and promised to cut them in pieces if they did not come to him; but there was no response. Full of the fury of disappointment, he pursued the flying hammock on foot.

But the bearers of it had by this time obtained a good start, and on seeing him coming after them gun in hand, increased their pace through sheer fright and desperation, and he found he could not overtake them before they would make the headland of the bay where they would be in full sight of the English factory. So he was forced to turn

ahead. With a feeling of disappointment Monke acknowledged to himself that, with the number of men he had, he could not overtake them. But what had become of James? Was the lad with the men away in the distance there? Then a native, who had been standing shading his eyes with his hand, sprang forward and pointed again, this time to something nearer-something lying on the sand-and they all saw it, and went toward it.

As they approached, they knew it was the body of a white man, and a thrill of dismay ran through them as the face became visible. With one loud shout they all rushed forward, Monke leading. He recognized it; he threw himself on his knees beside it; he clasped it in his arms; he tried to raise it; he supported its head on his breast; he called wildly for water! brandy! he chafed its palms between his own; and then, when he became conscious the life was out of it, he threw up his arms with one loud cry of 'James, James, my son !"'

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He remained by the body, and would not allow any one to touch it-motioning all away; and, in truth, his companion was too much astounded by the utterly unexpected discovery, and the vehemence of the grief displayed, to intrude upon him. Even the natives, stoical and indifferent to the sight of death, were struck by the sorrow of the white man for his brother, as they thought, and stood apart. At last his friend ventured to approach him and to take the body from him, when the griefstricken man rose and followed the party back to the factory. while he spoke, and told his friend how he had discovered, when in England, that the lad whom he had known on the coast had been indeed his own illegitimate son; and turning, he halted, and in a sudden accession of grief, made him promise to give him his help and arms to pursue the Portuguese.

After a

Margaret's grief was not less intense than that of Monke. She knew now that the poor lad who had died to preserve her had done so out of his affection toward her, and she threw herself beside the couch on which they had laid him. There Monke found her, and gently raising her, looked into her face,

and thenceforth the new love that both had begun to bear toward him formed a bond of union between them.

On the next morning James was laid to rest with the ensign over him. He was buried on the sea-slope of the southernmost bluff of the bay fronting the great ocean. All the head men of the factory attended in solemn silence, and with a twinge here and there among them of regret; but death to them was simply the inevitable, and to be as quickly and easily forgotten as possible. Therefore, when Monke and his friend swept out of the factory gates with a strong body of bearers, they only stopped the games of chance they were playing with small cubes of wood on a square board for a moment to look after the departing party, and then with a shrug of the shoulders they resumed their play the white men's quarrels were not theirs.

All that day Monke and his comrade travelled along the sea-shore, and through the grassy plains, and over the dark river, and arrived at Senhor Pepe's house. The little man was astounded to learn for the first time what had happened, and wrung his little hands in grief, only brightening up when he found that the Senhora was safe. To his credit he willingly told the Englishmen that Chaves had been at the factory, and the hour of his departure, and he placed his boats and boats' crews at their disposal, though he knew he ran the risk of incurring the anger and revenge of his countryman by doing so.

Thus enabled to proceed without delay, and having the current in their favor, the pursuers entered the bay of Donde by the night of the second day, Monke's heart thirsting for revenge. It was just such a night as that on which James and Margaret had left it, and apparently all was as tranquil on shore. But suddenly, as the boat passed on, a glare of light shone for a moment on a hilltop, and then shot up a steady stream into the still night air. "What does that mean?" ejaculated Monke.

"The factory of the Portuguese is on fire," returned his companion, excitedly. That is his; M'Gibbon's is to the right.

"Pull, boys, pull !" cried Monke,

"And God grant

fevered by the sight. that I may not be too late to punish him!" he exclaimed to himself, gripping his gun nervously.

But quickly though the boat went through the water, the flames grew and spread, almost at once devouring the old cane-work of the house with a rapidity that showed it must have been set on fire in many places. Also the building was too far inland, and the boat too far off the shore, to allow any sound to be heard; and the fire shone red and silent through the thick fringe of the forest.

But just as the boat touched the beach, the powder-house belonging to the factory blew up with a terrific roar. This had been situated some hundred yards from the main building, and its destruction surely showed that it had been fired purposely. The boat-boys were awed and cowed by the roar of the explosion and its shock; but the two white men rallied them, and led them with a rush up the hill and through the forest. They noticed as they went that from the spot where M'Gibbon's factory stood came neither sound nor light.

As they drew near to the burning house, shouts and yells were plainly heard above the roar and crackle of the flames, whose light fell upon fully five hundred natives in the cleared space, some of whom crowded and fought round broached puncheons of rum, while others danced or reeled about the factory yard clad in all the fine cloths and shawl-pieces they had been able to pillage from the bales lying about, and adorned with strings upon strings of bright beads, which glittered in the fierce light. Many kept up a perpetual fusilade, loading their muskets with handfuls of powder from open kegs that lay strewed about.

As a background to this stood the dark and silent forest, into which the more cautious and sober of the negroes were stealing with their booty and returning for more. So intent were all upon the spoil, that the approach of Monke and his band was not noticed; and not until the two white men stepped into the circle of light made by the flames were they seen, when there was an instant stampede on the part of the marauders into the forest. Two of them were