“Have you never seen or heard of your daughter since?” asked Nigel eagerly, and with deep sympathy.

“Never—­I have travelled far and near, all over the archipelago; into the interior of the islands, great and small, but have failed to find her.  I have long since felt that she must be dead—­for—­for she could not live with the monsters who stole her away.”

A certain contraction of the mouth, as he said this, and a gleam of the eyes, suggested to Nigel that revenge was not yet dead within the hermit’s breast, although it had been overcome.

“What was her name?” asked Nigel, willing to gain time to think how he ought to act, and being afraid of the effect that the sudden communication of the news might have on his friend.

“Winnie—­darling Winnie—­after her mother,” said the hermit with deep pathos in his tone.

A feeling of disappointment came over our hero.  Winnie bore not the most distant resemblance to Kathleen!

“Did you ever, during your search,” asked Nigel slowly, “visit the Cocos-Keeling Islands?”

“Never.  They are too far from where the attack on us was made.”

“And you never heard of a gun-boat having captured a pirate junk and——­”

“Why do you ask, and why pause?” said the hermit, looking at his friend in some surprise.

Nigel felt that he had almost gone too far.

“Well, you know—­” he replied in some confusion, “you—­you are right when you expect me to sympathise with your great sorrow, which I do most profoundly, and—­and—­in short, I would give anything to be able to suggest hope to you, my friend.  Men should never give way to despair.”

“Thank you.  It is kindly meant,” returned the hermit, looking at the youth with his sad smile.  “But it is vain.  Hope is dead now.”

They were interrupted at this point by the announcement that supper was ready.  At the same time the sun sank, like the hermit’s hope, and disappeared beyond the dark forest.

CHAPTER XX.

NIGEL MAKES A CONFIDANT OF MOSES—­UNDERTAKES A LONELY WATCH AND SEES SOMETHING WONDERFUL.

It was not much supper that Nigel Roy ate that night.  The excitement resulting from his supposed discovery reduced his appetite seriously, and the intense desire to open a safety-valve in the way of confidential talk with some one induced a nervously absent disposition which at last attracted attention.

“You vant a goot dose of kvinine,” remarked Verkimier, when, having satiated himself, he found time to think of others—­not that the professor was selfish by any means, only he was addicted to concentration of mind on all work in hand, inclusive of feeding.

The hermit paid no attention to anything that was said.  His recent conversation had given vent to a flood of memories and feelings that had been pent up for many years.

After supper Nigel resolved to make a confidant of Moses.  The negro’s fidelity to and love for his master would ensure his sympathy at least, if not wise counsel.