r him in the end."

Such were the remarks of the old gentleman as Solon and I walked
alongside him on our way to where he expected to find his camp pitched.
We found the tents pitched under a widespreading tamarind tree, in the
immediate neighbourhood of a number of cocoa-nut palms. Close at hand
were piles of curious ruins, near a beautiful lake bordered by trees;
while carved slabs, fallen columns, and broken statues lay scattered
around. The stranger's cortege was much of the same character as was
Mr Fordyce's. Camp-fires were already lighted, near which the horses
were sheltered, while four or five elephants stood, as usual, busy
fanning off the flies in the background.

"I have a young companion with me, also a stranger in this country. He
met with a slight accident, and could not come out hunting to-day. I
have no doubt he will be glad to make your acquaintance."

The moment the old gentleman said these words my heart beat quick. He
saw my agitation. I thought of Alfred.

"Who is he--pray tell me?" I asked.

His hand was on the curtain of the tent. He made no answer, but threw
it back. I entered. A young man was there. He looked up. No, it was
not Alfred, but my old schoolfellow whom I had met at Teneriffe,
Lumsden.

"Marsden, my dear fellow, I am delighted to see you," he exclaimed,
jumping up. "How did you find your way here?"

"Marsden!" ejaculated the old gentleman, looking earnestly at me.
"Marsden!--who are you?"

"Ralph Marsden, sir," I answered hurriedly. "My father has lately died;
my mother was Miss Coventry."

"Then you are my grandson, young gentleman, and right glad I am to
welcome one who has proved himself so true a chip of the old block!"
exclaimed Mr Coventry.

I had had no doubt who he was from the moment I had seen Lumsden with
him. He seized me by the shoulders, and, gazing in my face for a
minute, gave me as kind and warm a hug as I could expect to receive.

"Your old friend here told me to expect you, as you were come out in
search of poor Alfred. What has become of him I cannot tell. You heard
nothing of him at the Mauritius, I fear?"

"No, sir," I answered, much agitated and grieved. "Cannot you tell me
where he is?"

"No, indeed, I cannot, my boy," replied Mr Coventry; "I would give much
to discover. I have kept him actively employed ever since he found me
out. He has been twice at the Mauritius, once I sent him off to
Singapore, and the last time I de