"But on what part? are we near Peru?" d.i.c.k inquired eagerly.

"No, my lad, no; you are more to the south; you are on the coast of Bolivia; close to the borders of Chili."

"A good distance, I suppose, from Lima?" asked d.i.c.k.

"From Lima? yes, a long way; Lima is far to the north."

"And what is the name of that promontory?" d.i.c.k said, pointing to the adjacent headland.

"That, I confess, is more than I am able to tell you," replied the stranger; "for although I have travelled a great deal in the interior of the country, I have never before visited this part of the coast."

d.i.c.k pondered in thoughtful silence over the information he had thus received. He had no reason to doubt its accuracy; according to his own reckoning he would have expected to come ash.o.r.e somewhere between the lat.i.tudes of 27 and 30; and by this stranger's showing he had made the lat.i.tude 25; the discrepancy was not very great; it was not more than might be accounted for by the action of the currents, which he knew he had been unable to estimate; moreover, the deserted character of the whole sh.o.r.e inclined him to believe more easily that he was in Lower Bolivia.

Whilst this conversation was going on, Mrs. Weldon, whose suspicions had been excited by Negoro's disappearance, had been scrutinizing the stranger with the utmost attention; but she could detect nothing either in his manner or in his words to give her any cause to doubt his good faith.

"Pardon me," she said presently; "but you do not seem to me to be a native of Peru?"

"No; like yourself, I am an American, Mrs. --;" he paused, as if waiting to be told her name.

The lady smiled, and gave her name; he thanked her, and continued,-

"My name is Harris. I was born in South Carolina; but it is now twenty years since I left my home for the pampas of Bolivia; imagine, therefore, how much pleasure it gives me to come across some countrymen of my own."

"Do you live in this part of the province, Mr. Harris?" Mrs. Weldon asked.

"No, indeed; far away; I live down to the south, close to the borders of Chili. At present I am taking a journey north-eastwards to Atacama."

"Atacama!" exclaimed d.i.c.k; "are we anywhere near the desert of Atacama?"

"Yes, my young friend," rejoined Harris, "you are just on the edge of it. It extends far beyond those mountains which you see on the horizon, and is one of the most curious and least explored parts of the continent."

"And are you travelling through it alone?" Mrs. Weldon inquired.

"Yes, quite alone; and it is not the first time I have performed the journey. One of my brothers owns a large

[Ill.u.s.tration: "He is my little son."]

farm, the hacienda of San Felice, about 200 miles from here, and I have occasion now and then to pay him business visits."

After a moment's hesitation, as if he were weighing a sudden thought, he continued,-

"I am on my way there now, and if you will accompany me I can promise you a hearty welcome, and my brother will be most happy to do his best to provide you with means of conveyance to San Francisco."

Mrs. Weldon had hardly begun to express her thanks for the proposal when he said abruptly,-

"Are these negroes your slaves?"

"Slaves! sir," replied Mrs. Weldon, drawing herself up proudly; "we have no slaves in the United States. The south has now long followed the example of the north. Slavery is abolished."

"I beg your pardon, madam. I had forgotten that the war of 1862 had solved that question. But seeing these fellows with you, I thought perhaps they might be in your service," he added, with a slight tone of irony.

"We are very proud to be of any service to Mrs. Weldon," Tom interposed with dignity, "but we are no man's property. It is true I was sold for a slave when I was six years old; but I have long since had my freedom; and so has my son. Bat here, and all his friends, were born of free parents."

"Ah! well then, I have to congratulate you," replied Harris, in a manner that jarred very sensibly upon Mrs. Weldon's feelings; but she said nothing.

Harris added,-

"I can a.s.sure you that you are as safe here in Bolivia as you would be in New England."

He had not finished speaking, when Jack, followed by Nan, came out of the grotto. The child was rubbing his eyes, having only just awakened from his night's sleep. Catching sight of his mother, he darted towards her.

"What a charming little boy!" exclaimed Harris.

"He is my little son," said Mrs. Weldon, kissing the child by way of morning greeting.

"Ah, madam, I am sure you must have suffered doubly on his account. Will the little man let me kiss him too?"

But there was something in the stranger's appearance that did not take Jack's fancy, and he shrank back timidly to his mother's side.

"You must excuse him, sir; he is very shy."

"Never mind," said Harris; "we shall be better acquainted by-and-by. When we get to my brother's, he shall have a nice little pony to ride."

But not even this tempting offer seemed to have any effect in coaxing Jack into a more genial mood. He kept fast hold of his mother's hand, and she, somewhat vexed at his behaviour, and anxious that no offence should be given to a man who appeared so friendly in his intentions, hastened to turn the conversation to another topic.

Meantime d.i.c.k Sands had been considering Harris's proposal. Upon the whole, the plan of making their way to the hacienda of San Felice seemed to commend itself to his judgment; but he could not conceal from himself that a journey of 200 miles across plains and forests, without any means of transport, would be extremely fatiguing. On expressing his doubts on this point, he was met with the reply,-

"Oh, that can be managed well enough, young man; just round the corner of the cliff there I have a horse, which is quite at the disposal of the lady and her son; and by easy stages of ten miles or so a day, it will do the rest of us no harm to travel on foot. Besides," he added, "when I spoke of the journey being 200 miles, I was thinking of following, as I usually do, the course of the river; but by taking a short cut across the forest, we may reduce the distance by nearly eighty miles."

Mrs. Weldon was about to say how grateful she was, but Harris antic.i.p.ated her.

"Not a word, madam, I beg you. You cannot thank me better than by accepting my offer. I confess I have never crossed this forest, but I am so much accustomed to the pampas that I have little fear of losing my way. The only difficulty is in the matter of provisions, as I have only supplied myself with enough to carry me on to San Felice."

"As to provisions," replied Mrs. Weldon, "we have enough and to spare; and we shall be more than willing to share everything with you."

"That is well," answered Harris; "then there can be no reason why we should not start at once."

He was turning away with the intention of fetching his horse, when d.i.c.k Sands detained him. True to his seaman's instincts, the young sailor felt that he should be much more at his ease on the sea-sh.o.r.e than traversing the heart of an unknown forest.

"Pardon me, Mr. Harris," he began, "but instead of taking so long a journey across the desert of Atacama, would it not be far better for us to follow the coast either northwards or southwards, until we reach the nearest seaport?"

A frown pa.s.sed over Harris's countenance.

"I know very little about the coast," he answered; "but I know enough to a.s.sure you that there is no town to the north within 300 or 400 miles."

"Then why should we not go south?" persisted d.i.c.k.

"You would then have to travel to Chili, which is almost as far; and, under your circ.u.mstances, I should not advise you to skirt the pampas of the Argentine Republic. For my own part, I could not accompany you."