, starlit.

Three hours passed thus without a bite or symptom that the lagoon
contained anything else but sea-water, and disappointment; but he did
not grumble. He was a fisherman. Then he left the line tied to the tree
and sat down to eat the food he had brought with him. He had scarcely
finished his meal when the baby cocoa-nut tree shivered and became
convulsed, and he did not require to touch the taut line to know that
it was useless to attempt to cope with the thing at the end of it. The
only course was to let it tug and drown itself. So he sat down and
watched.

After a few minutes the line slackened, and the little cocoa-nut tree
resumed its attitude of pensive meditation and repose. He pulled the
line up: there was nothing at the end of it but a hook. He did not
grumble; he baited the hook again, and flung it in, for it was quite
likely that the ferocious thing in the water would bite again.

Full of this idea and heedless of time he fished and waited. The sun
was sinking into the west--he did not heed it. He had quite forgotten
that he had promised Emmeline to return before sunset; it was nearly
sunset now. Suddenly, just behind him, from among the trees, he heard
her voice, crying:

"Dick!"

CHAPTER XII

THE VANISHING OF EMMELINE (continued)

He dropped the line, and turned with a start. There was no one visible.
He ran amongst the trees calling out her name, but only echoes
answered. Then he came back to the lagoon edge.

He felt sure that what he had heard was only fancy, but it was nearly
sunset, and more than time to be off. He pulled in his line, wrapped it
up, took his fish-spear and started.

It was just in the middle of the bad place that dread came to him.
What if anything had happened to her? It was dusk here, and never had
the weeds seemed so thick, dimness so dismal, the tendrils of the vines
so gin-like. Then he lost his way--he who was so sure of his way
always! The hunter's instinct had been crossed, and for a time he went
hither and thither helpless as a ship without a compass. At last he
broke into the real wood, but far to the right of where he ought to
have been. He felt like a beast escaped from a trap, and hurried along,
led by the sound of the surf.

When he reached the clear sward that led down to the lagoon the sun had
just vanished beyond the sea-line. A streak of red cloud floated like
the feather of a flamingo in the western sky close to the sea, and
twilight had