“You shall write that letter!” continued the Portuguese.

“No!” replied Mrs. Weldon again.

“Ah, take care!” exclaimed Negoro.  “You are not alone here!  Your child is, like you, in my power, and I well know how——­”

Mrs. Weldon wished to reply that that would be impossible.  Her heart was beating as if it would break; she was voiceless.

“Mrs. Weldon,” said Negoro, “you will reflect on the offer I have made you.  In eight days you will have handed me a letter to James Weldon’s address, or you will repent of it.”

That said, the Portuguese retired, without giving vent to his anger; but it was easy to see that nothing would stop him from constraining Mrs. Weldon to obey him.

CHAPTER XIV.

SOME NEWS OF DR. LIVINGSTONE.

Left alone, Mrs. Weldon at first only fixed her mind on this thought, that eight days would pass before Negoro would return for a definite answer.  There was time to reflect and decide on a course of action.  There could be no question of the Portuguese’s probity except in his own interest.  The “market value” that he attributed to his prisoner would evidently be a safeguard for her, and protect her for the time, at least, against any temptation that might put her in danger.  Perhaps she would think of a compromise that would restore her to her husband without obliging Mr. Weldon to come to Kazounde.  On receipt of a letter from his wife, she well knew that James Weldon would set out.  He would brave the perils of this journey into the most dangerous countries of Africa.  But, once at Kazounde, when Negoro should have that fortune of a hundred thousand dollars in his hands, what guaranty would James W. Weldon, his wife, his son and Cousin Benedict have, that they would be allowed to depart?  Could not Queen Moini’s caprice prevent them?  Would not this “sale” of Mrs. Weldon and hers be better accomplished if it took place at the coast, at some point agreed upon, which would spare Mr. Weldon both the dangers of the journey to the interior, and the difficulties, not to say the impossibilities, of a return?

So reflected Mrs. Weldon.  That was why she had refused at once to accede to Negoro’s proposition and give him a letter for her husband.  She also thought that, if Negoro had put off his second visit for eight days, it was because he needed that time to prepare for his journey.  If not, he would return sooner to force her consent.

“Would he really separate me from my child?” murmured she.

At that moment Jack entered the hut, and, by an instinctive movement, his mother seized him, as if Negoro were there, ready to snatch him from her.

“You are in great grief, mother?” asked the little boy.

“No, dear Jack,” replied Mrs. Weldon; “I was thinking of your papa!  You would be very glad to see him again?”

“Oh! yes, mother!  Is he going to come?”