ey could
decide by their occasional glimpses, they thought she was still alive.
The brute did not seem to treat her with any malevolent violence. Only
in a rude uncouth way; which, however, might suffice to cause the death
of one so young and frail.

To depict the feelings of her father, under such circumstances, would be
a task the most eloquent pen could not successfully attempt. Agony like
his can never be described. Language possesses not the power. There
are thoughts which lie too deep for words; passions whose expression
defies the genius of the artist or the poet.

Perhaps he was hindered from realising the full measure of his
bereavement during the first moments of the pursuit. The excitement of
the chase, and the incidents attending it--the hope still remaining that
some chance would arise in their favour--the certainty, soon
ascertained, that they could keep up with the ape, which, despite its
agility in the trees, cannot outstrip a man pursuing it along the
ground,--all these circumstances had hitherto withheld him from giving
way to utter despair.

But the time had come when even these slight supports were to fail.

It was when they arrived upon the brink of a lagoon, and a water-surface
gleamed before their eyes; reflected by a daylight that struggled dimly
down through the tops of the tall trees.

The trees rose out of the water, their trunks wide apart, but their
branches intermingling.

The path of our pursuers was interrupted--they saw it at once--but that
of the pursued seemed continuous as before.

They were arrested suddenly on the brink of the lagoon, apparently with
no chance of proceeding farther. They saw the red gorilla still
climbing among the trees, with the white drapery streaming behind it.

Soon they saw it not--only heard the crackle of twigs, and the swishing
recoil of the branches, as its huge body swung from tree to tree.

The monster was now out of sight, along with its victim--a victim, in
very truth, whether living or dead!

But for the support of Murtagh and Saloo, Captain Redwood would have
fallen to the earth. In their arms he sobbed and gasped,--

"Helen! my child, Helen! What will become of her? O Father! O God,
protect her!"

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

LISTENING IN DESPAIR.

For some seconds Captain Redwood was powerless in a frenzy of despair.
Henry was equally overcome by grief truly agonising. It was to both
father and son a moment of the most unut