not
be believed. Things looked blacker still when he discovered that the
police were making inquiries about him.

In dismay he crept out of sight, and remained in hiding till the caravan
began to prepare for departure. Then, after receiving his wages, he
disappeared. When Jack, in the afternoon of the following day, made
inquiries as to his whereabouts, no one could tell anything. The man had
not gone with the caravan, that was the sole piece of information Jack
was able to gather.

Meantime, Estelle's unconsciousness lasted long enough to alarm even the
doctor. He and Goody were doing all in their power, while Jack and
Julien stood close by the sofa with anxious faces, but ready to do
anything which might be possible for them. Oh, how often in that time of
suspense did Goody wish that she had heeded Jack's misgivings, and
refrained from going to the Fete des Loges! It had proved anything but a
joyous festival to them. She doubted whether they had seen the end of
the bad business. Who knew where the man might be who had seized
Estelle, or whether he might not again make efforts to carry her off?
Would the child be safe anywhere in the absence of Jack? Would she, a
weak elderly woman, be a match for such a man while left in sole charge
of the child? Could she ever see Jack go off to sea without fearing what
might happen while he was away, and beyond reach of recall? Such
thoughts tortured her mind as she leant over the little girl, and obeyed
the doctor's directions.

(_Continued on page 234._)

[Illustration: "Jack was upon him."]

[Illustration: "A terrible sight met their view."]

STORIES FROM AFRICA.

X.--THE LAST TIME.

[Illustration]

Early in the September of 1905, a short announcement appeared in the
daily papers under the heading of 'German East Africa,' 'Masasi has been
destroyed.' There had been for some time past disquieting news of
rebellion among the native tribes, and grievous reports of the murder of
white men working in the district. To ninety-nine people out of a
hundred, Masasi was only another outlandish name of an unknown station.
But the hundredth person read the meagre intelligence with a thrill of
dismay, asking himself the question, 'Does history repeat itself, or
have we gone back three and twenty years?'

Nearly thirty years ago, a party of those released slaves, of whom we
spoke in a former story,[3] were brought from Zanzibar and settled at
Masasi, some four hundred mil