ation he will ever experience,
perhaps, in life. He will feel a desire to press it to his heart, if he
has such a thing.

Hannah would press Koko to his little brown stomach, as if in artless
admission of where his heart lay.

He was an extraordinarily bright and intelligent child. He did not
promise to be talkative, for, having achieved the word "Dick," he
rested content for a long while before advancing further into the
labyrinth of language; but though he did not use his tongue, he spoke
in a host of other ways. With his eyes, that were as bright as Koko's,
and full of all sorts of mischief; with his hands and feet and the
movements of his body. He had a way of shaking his hands before him
when highly delighted, a way of expressing nearly all the shades of
pleasure; and though he rarely expressed anger, when he did so, he
expressed it fully.

He was just now passing over the frontier into toyland. In civilisation
he would no doubt have been the possessor of an india-rubber dog or a
woolly lamb, but there were no toys here at all. Emmeline's old doll
had been left behind when they took flight from the other side of the
island, and Dick, a year or so ago, on one of his expeditions, had
found it lying half buried in the sand of the beach.

He had brought it back now more as a curiosity than anything else, and
they had kept it on the shelf in the house. The cyclone had impaled it
on a tree-twig near by, if in derision; and Hannah, when it was
presented to him as a plaything, flung it away from him as if in
disgust. But he would play with flowers or bright shells, or bits of
coral, making vague patterns with them on the sward.

All the toy lambs in the world would not have pleased him better than
those things, the toys of the Troglodyte children--the children of the
Stone Age. To clap two oyster shells together and make a noise--what,
after all, could a baby want better than that?

One afternoon, when the house was beginning to take some sort of form,
they ceased work and went off into the woods; Emmeline carrying the
baby and Dick taking turns with him. They were going to the valley of
the idol.

Since the coming of Hannah, and even before, the stone figure standing
in its awful and mysterious solitude had ceased to be an object of
dread to Emmeline, and had become a thing vaguely benevolent. Love had
come to her under its shade; and under its shade the spirit of the
child had entered into her from where, who kn