Hercules called him with all the strength of his powerful lungs, and almost immediately they saw the entomologist coming down the slopes of the cliff, at the risk of breaking his neck.

Cousin Benedict was literally furious.  He had not found a single new insect in the forest—­no, not one—­which was fit to figure in his collection.  Scorpions, scolopendras, and other myriapodes, as many as he could wish, and even more, were discovered.  And we know that Cousin Benedict did not interest himself in myriapodes.

“It was not worth the trouble,” added he, “to travel five or six thousand miles, to have braved the tempest, to be wrecked on the coast, and not meet one of those American hexapodes, which do honor to an entomological museum!  No; the game was not worth the candle!”

As a conclusion, Cousin Benedict asked to go away.  He did not wish to remain another hour on that detested shore.

Mrs. Weldon calmed her large child.  They made him hope that he would be more fortunate the next day, and all went to lie down in the grotto, to sleep there till sunrise, when Tom observed that Negoro had not yet returned, though night had arrived.

“Where can he be?” asked Mrs. Weldon.

“What matter!” said Bat.

“On the contrary, it does matter,” replied Mrs. Weldon.  “I should prefer having that man still near us.”

“Doubtless, Mrs. Weldon,” replied Dick Sand; “but if he has forsaken our company voluntarily, I do not see how we could oblige him to rejoin us.  Who knows but he has his reasons for avoiding us forever?”

And taking Mrs. Weldon aside, Dick Sand confided to her his suspicions.  He was not astonished to find that she had them also.  Only they differed on one point.

“If Negoro reappears,” said Mrs. Weldon, “he will have put the product of his theft in a safe place.  Take my advice.  What we had better do, not being able to convict him, will be to hide our suspicions from him, and let him believe that we are his dupes.”

Mrs. Weldon was right.  Dick Sand took her advice.

However, Negoro was called several times.

He did not reply.  Either he was still too far away to hear, or he did not wish to return.

The blacks did not regret being rid of his presence; but, as Mrs. Weldon had just said, perhaps he was still more to be feared afar than near.  And, moreover, how explain that Negoro would venture alone into that unknown country?  Had he then lost his way, and on this dark night was he vainly seeking the way to the grotto?

Mrs. Weldon and Dick Sand did not know what to think.  However it was, they could not, in order to wait for Negoro, deprive themselves of a repose so necessary to all.

At that moment the dog, which was running on the strand, barked aloud.

“What is the matter with Dingo?” asked Mrs. Weldon.

“We must, indeed, find out,” replied the novice.  “Perhaps it is Negoro coming back.”