d the madman.

Then, receiving no answer, he burst into a long, loud fit of laughter,
which seemed to freeze the very marrow in the pirate's bones.

"Ha! ha!" he shouted, again and again, "I knew you were a dream, I felt
sure of it--ha! ha! and now this proves it. And I'm glad you were a
dream, for I did not want to kill you, Rosco, though I thought it my
duty to do so. It was a dream--thank God, it was all a dream!"

Zeppa did not end again with wild laughter, but betook himself to
earnest importunate prayer, during which Rosco crept, by slow degrees,
farther and farther away, until he could no longer hear the sound of his
enemy's voice.

Now, it was while this latter scene had been enacting, that Orlando and
the faithful negro set out on their search into the mountain.

At first they did not speak, and Ebony, not feeling sure how his young
master relished his company, kept discreetly a pace or two in rear.
After they had crossed the plain, however, and begun to scale the steep
sides of the hills, his tendency towards conversation could not be
restrained.

"Does you t'ink, Massa Orley, that hims be you fadder?"

"I think so, Ebony, indeed I feel almost sure of it."

Thus encouraged, the negro ranged up alongside.

"An' does you t'ink hims mad?"

"I hope not. I pray not; but I fear that he--"

"Hims got leettle out ob sorts," said the sympathetic Ebony, suggesting
a milder state of things.

As Orlando did not appear to derive much consolation from the
suggestion, Ebony held his tongue for a few minutes.

Presently his attention was attracted to a sound in the underwood near
them.

"Hist! Massa Orley. I hear somet'ing."

"So do I, Ebony," said the youth, pausing for a moment to listen; "it
must be some sort of bird, for there can be no wild animals left by the
natives in so small an island."

As he spoke something like a low moan was heard. The negro's mouth
opened, and the whites of his great eyes seemed to dilate.

"If it _am_ a bird, massa, hims got a mos' awful voice. Mus' have
cotched a drefful cold!"

The groan was repeated as he spoke, and immediately after they observed
a large, sluggish-looking animal, advancing through the underwood.

"What a pity we's not got a gun!" whispered Ebony. "If we's only had a
spear or a pitchfork, it's besser than nuffin."

"Lucky that you have nothing of the sort, else you'd commit murder,"
said Orlando, advancing. "Don't you see--it is a man!"