on, nor Jack,
nor Cousin Benedict were on them. Besides, the "Pilgrim" itself was
already overdue at Sun Francisco. As she did not reappear, James W.
Weldon must now rank her in the category of ships supposed to be lost,
because not heard of.

What a terrible blow for him, when news of the departure of the
"Pilgrim" and the embarkation of Mrs. Weldon should reach him from
his correspondents in Auckland! What had he done? Had he refused to
believe that his son and she had perished at sea? But then, where
would he search? Evidently on the isles of the Pacific, perhaps on the
American coast. But never, no never, would the thought occur to him
that she had been thrown on the coast of this fatal Africa!

So thought Mrs. Weldon. But what could she attempt? Flee! How? She
was closely watched. And then to flee was to venture into those thick
forests, in the midst of a thousand dangers, to attempt a journey of
more than two hundred miles to reach the coast. And meanwhile Mrs.
Weldon was decided to do it, if no other means offered themselves for
her to recover her liberty. But, first, she wished to know exactly
what Negoro's designs were.

At last she knew them.

On the 6th of June, three days after the burial of Kazounde's king,
Negoro entered the factory, where he had not yet set foot since his
return. He went right to the hut occupied by his prisoner.

Mrs. Weldon was alone. Cousin Benedict was taking one of his
scientific walks. Little Jack, watched by the slave Halima, was
walking in the enclosure of the establishment.

Negoro pushed open the door of the hut without knocking.

"Mrs. Weldon," said he, "Tom and his companions have been sold for the
markets of Oujiji!"

"May God protect them!" said Mrs. "Weldon, shedding tears.

"Nan died on the way, Dick Sand has perished----"

"Nan dead! and Dick!" cried Mrs. Weldon.

"Yes, it is just for your captain of fifteen to pay for Harris's
murder with his life," continued Negoro. "You are alone in Kazounde,
mistress; alone, in the power of the 'Pilgrim's' old cook--absolutely
alone, do you understand?"

What Negoro said was only too true, even concerning Tom and his
friends. The old black man, his son Bat, Acteon and Austin had
departed the day before with the trader of Oujiji's caravan, without
the consolation of seeing Mrs. Weldon again, without even knowing that
their companion in misery was in Kazounde, in Alvez's establishment.
They had departed for the lake coun