“You are right, Martin; they are the selfsame men, as you might easily have guessed from Prabu’s behavior.”
“Ah! but that is what I cannot understand. If he knew them to be cave-robbers, why did he not accuse them there and then?”
“Is he not the betrothed of their sister? But be patient, Martin, and you will find that he has some scheme in his mind for their confusion, if not punishment.”
“Nay, Claud, that can scarcely be; for did he not jump at the opportunity of going with them to-morrow in search of the tin ore?”
“That tin-ore story, Martin, is all fudge, and the invitation is only to get Prabu away, while their companions carry the birds’-nests they have collected from the cave, perhaps down to the Chinese junk of which you heard them speak; at least, that is my opinion, and to-morrow will prove whether I am correct. But now, old fellow, do let me go to sleep.” And go to sleep I did, leaving Martin to work out what discoveries he might during the night; and he made the best use of his time, for scarcely had I opened my eyes in the morning, than he said:
“Claud, you were right; those fellows, the bee-hunters, are hatching mischief.”
“Oh! that’s your opinion now, is it, most sapient Martin? Did I not say as much last night?”
“No, not my opinion: I know it.”
“How? What mean you?”
“Well, about the middle of the night, when it was but natural to think everybody was asleep, that fellow they call the ‘strong one’ went down to the seaside and had speech with the captain of a Chinese junk which is anchored nearly inshore.”