During this recital, given rapidly by Hercules, nothing concerning Dick Sand had been mentioned.

“And you, Dick!” asked Mrs. Weldon.

“I, Mrs. Weldon!” replied the young man.  “I can tell you nothing.  My last thought was for you, for Jack!  I tried in vain to break the cords that fastened me to the stake.  The water rose over my head.  I lost consciousness.  When I came to myself, I was sheltered in a hole, concealed by the papyrus of this bank, and Hercules was on his knees beside me, lavishing his care upon me.”

“Well! that is because I am a physician,” replied Hercules; “a diviner, a sorcerer, a magician, a fortuneteller!”

“Hercules,” said Mrs. Weldon, “tell me, how did you save Dick Sand?”

“Did I do it, Mrs. Weldon?” replied Hercules; “Might not the current have broken the stake to which our captain was tied, and in the middle of the night, carried him half-dead on this beam, to the place where I received him?  Besides, in the darkness, there was no difficulty in gliding among the victims that carpeted the ditch, waiting for the bursting of the dam, diving under water, and, with a little strength, pulling up our captain and the stake to which these scoundrels had bound him!  There was nothing very extraordinary in all that!  The first-comer could have done as much.  Mr. Benedict himself, or even Dingo!  In fact, might it not have been Dingo?”

A yelping was heard; and Jack, taking hold of the dog’s large head, gave him several little friendly taps.

“Dingo,” he asked, “did you save our friend Dick?”

At the same time he turned the dog’s head from right to left.

“He says, no, Hercules!” said Jack.  “You see that it was not he.  Dingo, did Hercules save our captain?”

The little boy forced Dingo’s good head to move up and down, five or six times.

“He says, yes, Hercules! he says, yes!” cried little Jack.  “You see then that it was you!”

“Friend Dingo,” replied Hercules, caressing the dog, “that is wrong.  You promised me not to betray me.”

Yes, it was indeed Hercules, who had risked his life to save Dick Sand.  But he had done it, and his modesty would not allow him to agree to the fact.  Besides, he thought it a very simple thing, and he repeated that any one of his companions would have done the same under the circumstances.

This led Mrs. Weldon to speak of old Tom, of his son, of Acteon and Bat, his unfortunate companions.

They had started for the lake region.  Hercules had seen them pass with the caravan of slaves.  He had followed them, but no opportunity to communicate with them had presented itself.  They were gone! they were lost!

Hercules had been laughing heartily, but now he shed tears which he did not try to restrain.

“Do not cry, my friend,” Mrs. Weldon said to him.  “God may be merciful, and allow us to meet them again.”

In a few words she informed Dick Sand of all that had happened during her stay in Alvez’s factory.