may count on."

"It's a hard case to be punished for bein' Christians, when we hardly
deserve the name. I can't help wonderin'," said the seaman, "that Lovey
should have bolted as he did an' left us in the lurch. He might at
least have taken his risk along with us. Anyhow, he could have spoke up
for us, knowin' both lingos. Of course it was nat'ral that, poor Mamba
should look after number one, seem that he was in no way beholden to us;
but Lovey was our guide, an' pledged to stand by us."

"I can't help thinking," said Mark, "that you do injustice to Laihova.
He is not the man to forsake a comrade in distress."

"That was my own opinion," returned the sailor, "till I seed him go slap
through yon port-hole like a harlequin."

"P'r'aps he tink he kin do us more service w'en free dan as a prisoner,"
suggested Ebony.

"There's somethin' in that," returned Hockins, lifting his hand to
stroke his beard, as was his wont when thoughtful. He lifted it,
however, with some difficulty, owing to the heavy chain.

They were still engaged in conversation about their prospects when the
prison-door again opened, and two men were ushered in. Both wore white
lambas over their other garments. One was tall and very dark. The
other was comparatively slender, and not so tall as his companion. For
a moment the strangers stood contemplating the prisoners, and Mark's
attention was riveted on the smaller man, for he felt that his somewhat
light-coloured and pleasant features were not unfamiliar to him, though
he could not call to mind where or when he had seen him. Suddenly it
flashed across him that this was the very man to whose assistance he had
gone, and whose wounds he had bound up, soon after his arrival in the
island.

With a smile of recognition, Mark rose and extended his hand as far as
his chain permitted. The young native stepped forward, grasped the
hand, and pressed it warmly. Then he looked round at his tall
companion, and spoke to him in his own tongue, whereupon the tall man
advanced a step, and said in remarkably bad English--

"You save me frind life one taime ago. Ver' good--him now _you_ save."

"Thank him for that promise," said Mark, greatly relieved to find at
least one friend among the natives in his hour of need.

"But," continued the Interpreter, "you muss not nottice me frind nowhar.
Unerstand?"

"Oh yes, I think I do," returned Mark, with an intelligent look. "I
suppose he does not wish peo