Part 25 (1/2)

She was hastening, one afternoon, to an outlying field to gather vegetables in company with Zariffa, who had by that time grown into a goodly-sized girl.

The pace induced silence, also considerable agitation in both bonnets.

When they had cleared the village, and reached Rosco's hut near the entrance to the palm-grove, they went up to the open door and looked in, but no one was there.

”He's hoed out to walk,” observed Zariffa with a light laugh; ”awful fond o' walkin' since he got the 'ooden legs!”

”What was you want with him?” asked Betsy, as they resumed their walk.

”Want to ask 'bout the Bibil lesson for to-morrow. Some things me no can understan', an' Rosco great at the Bibil now.”

”Yes,” murmured Betsy with a nod, ”there's many things in the Bibil not easy to understand. Takes a deal o' study, Ziffa, to make him out.

Your father always say that. But Rosco's fuss-rate at 'splainin' of 'em. Fuss-rate--so your father say. Him was born for a mis'nary.”

At that moment a cry was heard in the distance. They had been ascending a winding path leading to the field to which they were bound.

”Sounds like man in distress,” said Betsy, breaking into a run with that eager alacrity which usually characterises the sympathetic.

Zariffa replied not, but followed her mother. The cry was repeated, and at once recognised as being uttered by the man who was ”born for a mis'nary,” but had mistaken his profession when he became a pirate!

When they reached the spot whence it had apparently issued, the mis'nary, or ex-pirate, was nowhere to be seen.

”Hooroo! whar' is you?” shouted Betsy, looking round.

”Here!” cried a half-smothered voice from somewhere in the earth.

”Oh! look!” exclaimed Zariffa in a sort of squeal as she ran towards a spot where two strange plants seemed to have sprung up.

”Rosco's legs!” said Betsy, aghast.