almost immediately they saw the entomologist coming down the slopes of
the cliff, at the risk of breaking his neck.

Cousin Benedict was literally furious. He had not found a single new
insect in the forest--no, not one--which was fit to figure in his
collection. Scorpions, scolopendras, and other myriapodes, as many as
he could wish, and even more, were discovered. And we know that Cousin
Benedict did not interest himself in myriapodes.

"It was not worth the trouble," added he, "to travel five or six
thousand miles, to have braved the tempest, to be wrecked on the coast,
and not meet one of those American hexapodes, which do honor to an
entomological museum! No; the game was not worth the candle!"

As a conclusion, Cousin Benedict asked to go away. He did not wish to
remain another hour on that detested shore.

Mrs. Weldon calmed her large child. They made him hope that he would be
more fortunate the next day, and all went to lie down in the grotto, to
sleep there till sunrise, when Tom observed that Negoro had not yet
returned, though night had arrived.

"Where can he be?" asked Mrs. Weldon.

"What matter!" said Bat.

"On the contrary, it does matter," replied Mrs. Weldon. "I should
prefer having that man still near us."

"Doubtless, Mrs. Weldon," replied Dick Sand; "but if he has forsaken