But what, then, was this miserable man?  Had he been a sailor and known so well how to hide the fact?  Was he capable of contriving this odious plot which had thrown the ship on the coast of Africa?

At any rate, if obscure points still existed in the past, the present could offer no more of them.  The young novice knew only too well that he was in Africa, and very probably in the fatal province of Angola, more than a hundred miles from the coast.  He also knew that Harris’s treason could no longer be doubted.  From this fact, the most simple logic led him to conclude that the American and the Portuguese had long known each other, that a fatal chance had united them on this coast, and that a plan had been concerted between them, the result of which would be dreadful for the survivors of the “Pilgrim.”

And now, why these odious actions?  That Negoro wished, at all hazards, to seize Tom and his companions, and sell them for slaves in this slave-trading country, might be admitted.  That the Portuguese, moved by a sentiment of hatred, would seek to be revenged on him, Dick Sand, who had treated him as he deserved, might also be conceived.  But Mrs. Weldon, this mother, and this young child—­what would the wretch do with them?  If Dick Sand could have overheard a little of the conversation between Harris and Negoro, he would have known what to expect, and what dangers menaced Mrs. Weldon, the blacks, and himself.

The situation was frightful, but the young novice did not yield under it.  Captain on board, he remained captain on land.  He must save Mrs. Weldon, little Jack, all those whose fate Heaven had placed in his hands.  His task was only commencing.  He would accomplish it to the end.

After two or three hours, during which the present and the future were summed up in his mind, with their good and their evil chances—­the last, alas! the most numerous—­Dick Sand rose, firm and resolved.

The first glimmer of light then touched the summits of the forest.  With the exception of the novice and Tom, all slept.  Dick Sand approached the old black.

“Tom,” he said to him, in a low tone, “you have recognized the roaring of the lion, you have remembered the instruments of the slave-traders.  You know that we are in Africa!”

“Yes, Mr. Dick, I know it.”

“Well, Tom, not a word of all that, neither to Mrs. Weldon nor to your companions.  We must be the only ones to know, the only ones to have any fears.”

“Alone—­in fact.  It is necessary,” replied Tom.

“Tom,” continued the novice, “we have to watch more carefully than ever.  We are in an enemy’s country—­and what enemies! what a country!  To keep our companions on their guard, it will be enough to tell them that we have been betrayed by Harris.  They will think that we fear an attack from wandering Indians, and that will suffice.”

“You can count absolutely on their courage and devotion, Mr. Dick.”