"My mother died when I was young," said Cyril, after a pause, "and I was brought up by a maiden aunt. My father I rarely saw, as he was always travelling round the world in search of a fortune which he never seemed to find. Sometimes he returned to England, and treated me with careless affection, but I saw very little of him. But for my aunt I should have been utterly neglected. Bless her! she is dead," and he raised his hat. "Poor Cyril!" murmured Bella affected by this picture of a dull childhood. "Thank you, dear!" he said, taking her hand. "My aunt did everything for me out of her small income, and I don't think my father gave one penny towards my education." "But surely----" "No, dear!" said Cyril, interrupting her; "my aunt told me, on her death-bed, that she had done everything, so you can see that my father was only one to me in name." "He was working to make your fortune in Nigeria," said Durgo quickly. "So he said when he came home, but I have not seen that fortune yet. Well, to continue; my aunt sent me to a public school, and afterwards to Oxford. I then became a journalist, and my aunt died, leaving me a trifle of money on which to live. My father came to London and borrowed that money--the principal of my small income--for one of his wild schemes, and I was left without one penny." "It was your duty to assist your father," said Durgo uneasily. "'Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings,'" quoted Cyril, with a side glance--"the missionaries have taught you well, Durgo." "I am a Christian," said the negro proudly. "So am I, in a way. However, I must get on with my confession. I saw my father at various intervals, and meanwhile earned my bread by reporting and writing articles, and all the rest of it. My father appeared at intervals, like the rolling stone which gathers no moss, and always borrowed. I did not grudge him the money, and he always said that he was about to make his fortune, which he never did." "He will make it this time," said Durgo vigorously; "the treasure is certainly hidden in the Hinterland of Nigeria, and when we reach it----" "Yes, when!" scoffed Cyril. "I don't believe in my father's schemes, I tell you. The last time he came home was five months ago." "With me," said Durgo gravely; "but I remained near the docks, and my master, Edwin Lister, went to the grand part of the town, coming down to see me when he required my services." Cyril nodded. "That sounds like my father," he said, with a shrug; "however, on this occasion he told me that he intended to hunt for buried treasure in Nigeria, and wanted money. He did not mention Captain Huxham, so I expect that he intended to keep that part of his business secret. But"--Cyril hesitated--"well, my father--that is, he--he--never mind," he broke off abruptly, "I can't tell you just now. But he wanted the sum of one thousand pounds, which I tried to get for him." "Oh, Cyril! was that the money you mentioned?" asked Bella in dismay.