Bart entered the place soon after he had come to the determination, bringing an Indian basket of fruit--the pleasant little grapes that grew wild in the sunny parts, and the succulent banana. These he placed upon the stone table in company with a bunch of flowers, where they looked like some offering made to the idol upon whose altar they had been placed. Humphrey hesitated with the words upon his lips, and checked himself. If Dinny had been overheard and were imprisoned or watched, what good would he do? Better wait and bear the suspense. "Your gift?" he said, aloud, taking up the flowers and smelling them, for the soft delicate blooms of the forest orchids suggested a room in Saint James's Square and a daintily-dressed lady who was bemoaning his absence. "Mine? No. The captain picked them himself," said Bart, bitterly. Humphrey laid them down and took up one of the long, yellow-skinned fruits, Bart watching his action, regarding the fruit with jealous eyes. Humphrey turned sharply round to hide his face from his jailer, for he had changed colour. A spasm shot through him, and for the moment he felt as if he must betray himself, for as he turned over the banana in his fingers, they touched a roughening of the under part, and the next instant he saw that the fruit he held had been partly cut away with the point of a knife, so that a figure had been carved in the soft rind, and this could only have been the work of one hand, and intended as a signal to him that he was not forgotten. For the figure cut in the rind was that of a shamrock--a trefoil with its stalk. He hastily tore off the rind in tiny strips and ate the fruit, but the soft, creamy pulp seemed like ashes, and his throat was dry, as he completely destroyed all trace of the cutting on the rind and threw it aside. Noting that Bart was watching him narrowly, he hurriedly picked up one of the little bunches of grapes and began eating them as if suffering from thirst. Then forcing himself to appear calm he lay down upon the couch till Bart had finished his customary attentions and gone. Night at last--a moonless night--that would have been dusk on the open shore, but there in the forest beneath the interlacing trees it was absolutely black; and after watching at his window for hours, with every sense upon the strain, he reluctantly came to the conclusion that no attempt would be made, Dinny either not being prepared--though his signal seemed to be to indicate readiness for the night though suitable for concealment, being too obscure for his purpose.