It was towards the twilight hour on the very day of the arrival which we have referred to, that Charles and Helen arm in arm started away from the house to the adjacent jungle, where was a pleasant trysting-place, with a seat prepared for resort from the house.  Breathing into each other’s ears the glad and trusting accents of true love, they sauntered slowly hither and sat down there, Helen upon the rude, but comfortable seat, and Charles at her feet upon the ground.  About them grew the rank, luxuriant foliage of Africa; fragrant flowers bloomed within reach of their hands, and luscious fruit greeted the eye in whichever direction it sought.  The soft air of the afterpart of the day was ladened with sweetness, and they seemed to gather fresh incentive for tenderness and love in the peculiar surroundings of the spot.

“So, you have broken off all connection with this business, and have settled your accounts with Don Leonardo, have you not?” asked Helen, of him at her feet.

“Yes, dearest, all has been done, and I shall have no more to do with the trade of this inhospitable coast, you may be assured.  My only hope and desire is once more to see you and your mother safe in England, where I can make you by sacred ties my own.”

Helen looked the tender response that beat in her heart, but which her lips refused to pronounce.  She was very, very happy, and they talked over olden times, childish recollections, and the memories of their early home.

While Charles and Helen were thus engaged, two other individuals closely connected with the plot of our story were not idle.  Captain Robert Bramble was now satisfied that without physical force he could not intervene between his rival brother and Helen Huntington; he would gladly have done this, but policy prevented, for he saw that in doing so, he would but gratify his revenge without approaching a single step nearer the consummation of his wishes.  It was nearly the appointed date for the sailing of his ship from the station for England, and he had made up his mind to return at once to Sierra Leone, and prepare to sail homeward.

He had already taken leave of Mrs. Huntington, and was seeking her daughter to say to her farewell; the wind was fair, he would sail within the hour, and on inquiring for Helen he was told by some one that she had been seen a few moments before walking towards the jungle.  The informant did not say in the company of him she so evidently loved, and Robert Bramble hastened forward in hopes that he might meet her there alone; perhaps, even once more press that oft rejected suit; he even thought as he went what he could say to her, and wondered how she would receive him.  It was difficult to say what it was in his bosom which caused him so tenaciously to pursue this vain desire; his was not the heart to die for love, it amounted almost to obstinacy.  He was self-willed, and was accustomed to have his own way in all things; here he had been thwarted from the very outset.