"Oh, look, d.i.c.k, look; what is that huge object over there? Is it another wreck?"

"Where away?" asked Leslie, gazing out over the reef.

"Down there in the water," answered the girl, pointing to a spot over the port quarter. "I cannot see it now, because of the light on the water; but I saw it most distinctly a moment ago. We sailed almost directly over it."

"And you thought it looked like a sunken wreck?" asked Leslie.

"Yes," answered the girl; "I certainly did. It was as large as a ship, and had somewhat the appearance of one."

"Well, we will go back and have a look at it," said Leslie; and, bearing up for a moment and then putting his helm down, he tacked, bringing the catamaran round in such a manner as to pa.s.s back over practically the same ground as before. And presently they both sighted the same object again--a huge something that certainly bore some resemblance to the hull of a ship, lying submerged upon the sandy bottom of the lagoon, about fifty fathoms from the inner edge of the reef. They were too far away from it, however, to distinguish it clearly, the light reflected from the surface of the water rendering their view of it indistinct; Leslie therefore this time wore the catamaran round, and, lowering her sails, allowed her to drift gently forward with the way that she still had on her. And this time they pa.s.sed right over the object, when, as soon as the catamaran was fairly clear of it, he let go his anchor and allowed his craft to drive astern again until she floated fair and square over the mysterious thing. Then, lying down flat upon the deck of the catamaran, he peered straight down into the crystal-clear water, in the shadow of the craft, and saw beneath him what was unquestionably the weed-grown hull of a ship of antiquated model, of some four hundred tons measurement. She was heading straight for the reef, with her stern pointing toward the island. And as Leslie lay there intently studying her every detail, he presently made out a stout rope cable leading from her starboard hawse-pipe toward the reef, the end of it being buried in the sand. Her posture was such as to suggest to the experienced eye of the sailor that she had driven over the reef, somewhat in the same way as the _Mermaid_ had done; but, unlike the latter craft, had cleared it altogether and had there been brought to an anchor, subsequently sinking where she lay. She seemed to have been a three-masted ship, for Leslie could see the stumps of the fore and main masts, and believed he could make out the stump of the mizzenmast broken close off at the deck. She had the appearance of a craft of somewhere about the Elizabethan period; being built with an excessive amount of sheer and a very high-peaked narrow p.o.o.p, upon the after end of which the remains of what were probably three p.o.o.p-lanterns could still be distinguished. She had a slight list to starboard, and had, in the course of her long submergence, either settled or become buried in the sand to the extent of about half the depth of her hull. What her nationality may have been it was of course impossible to tell, clothed as she was in a rankly luxuriant growth of weed. Leslie carefully noted in his pocket-book the exact bearings of the wreck; and then, lifting his anchor, they resumed their fishing, their efforts being rewarded with an excellent day's sport.

Leslie now set to work with earnestness and enthusiasm upon his great task of putting together the cutter, the component parts of which had so fortunately happened to form a part of the _Mermaid's_ cargo. And the first thing he did was to name the prospective craft the _Flora_, as a compliment to his companion.

Now, the _Flora_, when completed, would be a craft of very respectable dimensions; far too bulky, indeed, to be launched by the simple process of pushing her off the beach into the water, as one would launch a small boat. The method of launching, therefore, was a matter requiring consideration, and would have to be arranged for before a stroke of work was done upon the boat herself. Leslie thought the matter over carefully, and at length arrived at the conclusion that there was nothing for it but to build the boat upon properly constructed launching ways. And for these he would require a considerable quant.i.ty of good stout timber properly squared; the provision of which involved a task of very considerable labour and difficulty. Trees there were in plenty on the island, of ample dimensions for his purpose; but how was he, single-handed, to get them down upon the beach, even after they had been trimmed and squared? And how was he to square them without a sawpit.

The pit-saw itself he had, having found several among the other tools that formed part of the brig's cargo; but to work such a tool single-handed was an impossibility. Weighing all these difficulties in his mind, d.i.c.k at length came to the conclusion that there was no alternative but to draw upon the brig for the necessary material; and he accordingly went, rather reluctantly, to work upon the task of breaking up the poor old _Mermaid_. He decided that the deck-beams of the brig would be the most suitable for his purpose; and to obtain these it was necessary to break up the deck--a long and arduous job, only to be accomplished with hard labour and the a.s.sistance of an elaborate system of tackles.

It was while he was thus employed that the first break occurred in the fine weather that had prevailed ever since their arrival at the island.

It began with the gradual dying away of the trade wind, followed by a heavy banking-up of dark thundery-looking clouds along the western horizon. With the cessation of the wind the temperature rose to such a pitch that work became an impossibility, and d.i.c.k was at length reluctantly compelled to knock-off and return to the sh.o.r.e, much to Flora's satisfaction--for she was continually in dread lest the untiring and feverish energy with which he laboured should result in his suffering a serious breakdown.

As it was too hot even to walk about, the pair were perforce compelled to remain inactive all the afternoon; and Flora inwardly decided that this would be a good opportunity for d.i.c.k to relate to her his promised story. It needed a very considerable amount of persuasion and coaxing to induce him to do so; but eventually he yielded and told her the whole miserable history from beginning to end, winding up with the words--

"And thus you find me here to-day, a disgraced and ruined man, under an a.s.sumed name, without prospects or hope of any description, with only a hundred pounds wherewith to begin a new career in an alien land, and no possibility whatever, so far as I can see, of ever being able to establish my innocence and so win reconciliation with my poor, proud, heart-broken father. Were it not for the fact that you are here, and must be restored to your friends with as little delay as may be, I could be well content to end my days here on this unknown island, alone and forgotten by all. Indeed, I think it more than likely that as soon as I have discharged my duty to you I shall return here."

"My poor d.i.c.k," exclaimed Flora, in tones of profound sympathy; "how you must have suffered! I am no longer surprised at your frequent fits of depression and melancholy; the wonder to me is that you did not go mad, or die of shame, in that horrible prison. But now that you have told me all you must put everything that is past behind you, and try to forget it; _I_ believe your story implicitly; you could not be the man you have proved yourself to be to me, and be guilty of so mean an act as theft; oh no, nothing save your own admission could ever make me believe that of you. And you have all the sympathy of my heart, d.i.c.k; all my sympathy; all my esteem; all--oh, the thought of what you have been compelled to endure is terrible--terrible!"

And, to Leslie's unspeakable consternation, the girl suddenly buried her face in her hands and sobbed as though her heart would break. The expression of her whole-hearted sympathy and perfect faith in him touched him profoundly.

"Don't cry, darling, please don't; I cannot bear it--and I am not worth it," he protested. "I ought never to have told you. I was a selfish brute to extort your sympathy by the miserable recital of my own misfortunes; I have basely worked upon your feelings."

"You shall _not_ say it," she answered, laying her hand upon his mouth; "I will not have you abuse yourself, you who have already suffered such unspeakable cruelty at the hands of others. You are _not_ selfish; you are _not_ base; you are nothing that is bad and everything that is good; you are a very king among men! Oh, d.i.c.k," she continued, taking his hand in hers, "do not think me forward or unmaidenly in speaking thus to you, dear; I am not. But do you think I do not know what your feeling is toward me; do you think I do not _know_ that you love me? You poor, simple-hearted fellow, you are far too honest and straightforward ever to be able to deceive a woman, especially in such a matter as that; you may have thought that you were very successfully concealing your feelings from me, but I have known the truth--oh, ever since we have been on this island."

"It is true; G.o.d help me, it is true!" exclaimed d.i.c.k, smiting his forehead. "But it is also true that I never intended you to know. For what right have I, a disgraced and ruined man, to seek the love of any woman? And if I may not seek her love in return, why should I tell her that I love her?"

"You are looking at the matter with jaundiced eyes, d.i.c.k," answered Flora, still retaining his hand in hers. "I cannot wonder that you feel your humiliation cruelly; but the humiliation is really not yours; it is that of those who so shamefully plotted to ruin you. You are guiltless of this horrible charge--I am as sure of that as I am that I am a living woman. Besides, who is to know that Richard Leslie is one and the same man with him who stood in the dock charged with that shameful crime, and was p.r.o.nounced guilty upon the strength of cunningly devised and manufactured evidence? No one, of course, except my father; he must know; because, d.i.c.k dear, it is my fixed determination that he shall help you in this matter; you will accompany me to Bombay, and personally deliver me over into my father's care. Then I shall tell him all that you have done for me, and been to me; and you will tell him your whole story, just as you have told it to me. And I am sure that, if only for the sake of his daughter, he will take up the matter and bring the truth to light. And, d.i.c.k, I am not going to allow your morbid feelings, or even maidenly reserve, to stand in the way of my happiness; you have confessed that you love me, and I know it to be true, for your eyes and your actions have told me so daily, for months past. It cannot be unmaidenly, therefore, in me to confess that I return your love with all my heart and soul."

"Oh, Flora, my love, my heart's darling, are you _sure_ of this?"

demanded d.i.c.k, laying his hands upon her shoulders and gazing into her eyes as though he would read her very soul. "Are you sure that you are not mistaking mere grat.i.tude for a warmer feeling?"

"Yes, d.i.c.k," she answered, "I am quite, _quite_ sure. My grat.i.tude you won long ago; it was yours when we first stood on the deck of the _Mermaid_ together, dripping from our long night's immersion in the sea--for had you not, even then, saved my life? And it grew even deeper as I noted day by day your thoughtful care and anxiety for my welfare.

But grat.i.tude and love are two very different feelings; and while I should of course have always been profoundly grateful to you for your unceasing care, I am sure that I should never have learned to love you had I not first seen that you loved me."

"Then G.o.d be praised for His unspeakable mercy in bestowing upon me this pricelessly precious gift of your dear love!" exclaimed d.i.c.k, fervently.

"I will accept it, ay and I will moreover prove myself worthy of it.

This blessed day marks a turning-point in my life; from this moment I leave my wretched past behind me; there shall be no more useless fretting and grieving for me. My work, now, is first to restore you to your father; next to free myself--by his help, if he will give it me, but anyway, to free myself--from the undeserved stigma that attaches to my true name; and, finally, to win for you such a home and position as you deserve. And, G.o.d helping me, I will do it!"

This was the second time within a few minutes that d.i.c.k Leslie had spoken the name of the Deity, and nothing could more clearly have indicated the change wrought in him by the knowledge of Flora's love.

Hitherto he had felt himself to be an outcast, cruelly and unjustly deserted by his Creator; despised and condemned by his fellow-men; but now everything was different; he firmly believed that G.o.d had at last relented and had given him this girl's love to comfort and encourage him in his great trouble and humiliation; and he once more took hope into his heart. If G.o.d had relented, everything, he felt convinced, would yet be well with him.

And what is to be said of Flora; is any excuse needed for the extreme step that she took in forcing a confession of love from Leslie? Well, possibly there is; it may be that there are people who would a.s.sert that, despite her disclaimer, she was unmaidenly. If such there be, and if excuse for her be needed, then let it be found for her in the following facts. In the first place Leslie, despite his utmost caution, had betrayed his intense love for her in a thousand different ways, until the fact had become clear, unmistakable, and indisputable; a thing not to be doubted or gainsaid. And, in the next place, she saw that, for some unknown reason, he never intended to declare his love if he could possibly help it. A dozen times the declaration had trembled on his lips, yet he had resolutely withheld it. Why? Clearly for some reason that he deemed all-sufficient, and which, she fancied, must be intimately a.s.sociated with those oft-recurring fits of gloom and depression from which she could not help seeing that he suffered.

Finally, she loved him, and believed that--he also loving her--the knowledge of this fact might go far toward restoring his lost happiness.

And when she had heard his story--told with all the bitterness and grief and indignation that had been eating into his soul and destroying his faith in G.o.d and man for over seven interminable years of suffering--she knew that she was right; that there was but one remedy for his misery; and, conscious of the n.o.bility of her own motives, she fearlessly administered it. Who can or will blame her?

Meanwhile the brooding storm was slowly gathering its forces together for an outburst; the bank of cloud had piled itself so high above the western horizon that it had long ago obscured the sun; a weird twilight had fallen upon the scene; the stagnant air had grown even more oppressively hot than at first; not a bird uttered a single note; not an insect raised a chirp; not a leaf stirred; and in the profound silence the roar of the surf on the reef became thunderous in its resonance.

They dined somewhat earlier than usual that night, and while they sat over their meal the darkness fell and they lighted the lamps. Then Leslie went out to see to the security of the catamaran, making her fast to the sh.o.r.e with additional moorings; and upon his return Flora insisted that he should lie down on the sofa while she sang and played to him. Then Leslie, in his turn, his heart lightened with returning hope and happiness, lifted up his voice, and for the first time since that terrible and memorable day, nearly eight years ago, broke into song. And finally they began to sing duets together, his clear, rich, mellow tenor blending well with Flora's sweet, sympathetic soprano.

The concert was interrupted by the distant muttering of thunder and the fitful flickering of lightning; and they went out together down to the sh.o.r.e to watch the gathering storm. It was a long time in coming, but by-and-by, as they stood together close to the water's edge, a sudden swishing sound, like that of wind stirring leaves, became audible, and in another moment the blast was upon them and tearing across the gla.s.sy surface of the lagoon, darkening its surface and lashing it into foam.

Then, a minute or two later, down came the rain in sheets, and they had to beat a precipitate retreat to the tent, getting a thorough drenching on the journey, though it occupied them but a minute. The gale raged all through the night and up to nearly noon on the following day, when it broke, the sky cleared, and the wind gradually dropped to a moderate breeze, veering all the time round by north to east until the south-east trade wind was once more blowing, but very much more gently than usual.

Upon going out, the next day, Leslie was delighted to find that the gale had done no damage whatever anywhere, all stores and materials having been effectually protected from the rain, while the direction of the gale had been such that it could not possibly harm the brig.

Although the gale actually broke--as has been said--shortly before noon, it moderated so gradually throughout the afternoon that it was not until the next day that the sea had gone down sufficiently to permit of the catamaran being taken alongside the brig without danger. As soon, however, as this was the case, Leslie went off again, accompanied by Flora, and resumed his task of breaking up the brig's deck. It was about the middle of the afternoon when Flora, who had been allowing her gaze to wander out over the sea to the southward and westward, called her companion's attention to a small object floating at a distance of about a mile in the offing. Leslie, ever on the alert, at once brought the telescope to bear upon the object, which appeared to be drifting helplessly before wind and sea toward the surf beating on the weather side of the reef, and immediately p.r.o.nounced it to be a small canoe, apparently empty.

"We must have that craft; she will be very useful to us," he exclaimed, dropping the telescope and preparing to cast off the catamaran. "Will you come with me, sweetheart? You can be useful to me by taking the tiller, when we come alongside her, while I jump aboard and make fast a rope. But we must be smart or she will be among the breakers before we can reach her."

A minute later they were under way and slipping along toward the entrance channel, upon clearing which Leslie at once hauled his wind, standing to the eastward for about a mile, which took him far enough to windward to enable him to fetch the canoe on the next tack. He then hove about without a moment's delay, for the little craft was by this time perilously close to the surf, and it was questionable whether they would reach her in time to save her from being caught and dashed to pieces in it. So close, indeed, was she that Leslie began to seriously ask himself whether he was justified in taking the catamaran into a situation of such danger for the mere sake of an insignificant canoe; but reflecting that she was evidently light enough to enable Flora to paddle about in her without much exertion, and that it would afford the girl pleasure to do so; also that the little craft would be very useful for fishing and other purposes, he decided to risk it; and accordingly steered to shave just past her to windward. Then, when they were drawing close up to her, he handed over the tiller to Flora--who was by this time quite an expert helmswoman--instructing her to tack to the eastward the moment that he sprang into the canoe. Then, taking the end of a rope in his hand, he stood by to jump into the canoe as the catamaran shaved past her. Another moment and they were alongside the little craft, into which d.i.c.k nimbly leaped, with the rope's-end in his hand, crying, as he did so--

"Down helm, dear, and put her round!" A moment later he added, under his breath, "Hillo! here is a complication; a couple of naked savages in her! I wonder whether the beggars are dead!"

That, however, was not the moment in which to enter upon an investigation of the matter, for the two craft were on the very edge of the surf, and if by any chance the catamaran should miss stays nothing could save them. So d.i.c.k, with lightning-like rapidity, took a turn with his rope and made it fast to a sort of broad thwart in the centre of the canoe, and then, hauling quickly up alongside again, he regained the deck of the catamaran just as she was paying-off on the right tack.

As Leslie took the helm from her, Flora exclaimed--

"Oh, d.i.c.k, what does it mean? How came those two men--I suppose they _are_ men?--in the canoe; and where have they come from?"

"From one of those islands, away out there to the westward, that we saw from the summit, without a doubt," answered d.i.c.k. "I suspect that they were caught unawares and blown out to sea by that gale of the day before yesterday. Once blown fairly away out of the lee of their own island they would have no choice but to keep their c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.l of a canoe dead before the sea, and to paddle for all they were worth, to avoid being swamped. I take it that they paddled until they were absolutely exhausted and could do no more, and then flung themselves down in the bottom of the canoe and dropped into a kind of lethargy."

"You think that they are still alive, then?" asked Flora.

"I have very little doubt of it," answered d.i.c.k. "These South Sea savages are pretty tough, I believe; and even were they not, it would take something more than, say, forty hours' exposure, in this climate, to kill them. Oh yes; they are alive, all right."

"And how will their presence on our island affect us, d.i.c.k?" asked the girl.

That was precisely the question that was worrying Leslie at that moment.

He had no personal knowledge of the native inhabitants of the islands of the Southern Pacific, but had a vague recollection of having either heard or read that, while some of them were very gentle and inoffensive, others were extremely treacherous and ferocious; some of them even being addicted to cannibalism. He was not, however, going to alarm his companion unnecessarily, or say anything needlessly to raise her apprehensions; so he answered, with a great show of cheerfulness--

"Why, I hope it will very materially shorten the period of our sojourn here, sweetheart. They have the appearance of being good st.u.r.dy fellows; and I shall set them on to help me with my heavy work. It has gone to my heart to be compelled to ask you to do even the light work that you have hitherto done for me; although I could not have got on at all without your a.s.sistance. Now, however, with their help I shall be able to get on swimmingly, while you can amuse yourself in any way that you please. Now I am going to tack; look out for your head, dear; I cannot afford to have you knocked overboard by the main-boom. Helm's a-lee!"

Instead of returning to the brig, Leslie proceeded direct to the island where, having landed Flora, he proceeded, with some difficulty, to rouse the savages, and supply them with food and drink. They proved to be, as Leslie had said, a pair of fine, well-made men, naked, save for a kind of breech-clout round their loins, of st.u.r.dy physique, and apparently but little the worse for their adventure. Nor were they especially unprepossessing in appearance, although there was a certain character of ruthlessness in the expression of their eyes and about their mouths and chins that caused Leslie to determine that he would keep a very wary eye upon them, at all events until he had learned a little more about their character and disposition.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

FLORA'S ADVENTURE.

Leslie's two dark-skinned guests--for they were nearly black in colour-- ate heartily of the food that was given them, their eyes wide-open with wonder, meanwhile, at the many strange objects--especially the tent and the catamaran--that they beheld around them; and the ex-lieutenant especially noted, with fast-growing distrust, the glances of hungry admiration that they bestowed on Flora when at length she emerged from the tent and approached the canoe to note their progress toward recovery. Leslie had already tested their knowledge of English, French, and German without success, from which he deduced the conclusion that they had not been brought into very intimate contact with the crews of vessels speaking any of those languages. Their own language, on the other hand was, as of course might be expected, merely unintelligible gibberish to him. This was unfortunate, since it would make intelligent communication between him and them difficult, at all events for a time; sailors, however, have a way peculiar to themselves of making their requirements understood by foreigners, and he had little doubt of his ability to overcome that difficulty ere long. Indeed, on that same day, after the men had eaten and drank to their hearts' content, Leslie contrived to convey to their understanding the fact that he expected them to build a hut for themselves; and he indicated the precise spot, at a considerable distance from the camp, where he wished it to be. As soon as they clearly understood what his desires were, they went off into the bush and, armed with a small tomahawk lent them by Leslie, proceeded to cut down some forty or fifty young and pliant saplings, the b.u.t.t-ends of which they sharpened to a point, and then thrust vertically, into the ground in a circle some twelve feet in diameter.

They then brought the tops of the saplings all together and bound them; thus producing a skeleton structure exactly shaped like a bee-hive.

This skeleton they then strengthened by interweaving it with stout lianas--or "monkey-rope," as the sailors call the long, tough stems of the creepers that interlace themselves about the trees in tropical countries. This done, they again vanished into the bush; quickly returning with two generous loads of the leaves of a species of palm, wherewith they quickly and deftly thatched the entire hut, and thus completed it. The entire structure occupied but a couple of hours in the making; yet it had all the appearance of being a thoroughly comfortable and weather-proof dwelling. As soon as the hut was finished Leslie demanded back the tomahawk; but although he shrewdly suspected that they understood well enough what he wanted, they affected not to do so, keeping a tight hold upon the implement all through the discussion, until d.i.c.k simplified matters by seizing the holder by the arm and gently but firmly forcing it from his grasp. He then handed them a generous supply of fish, as an evening ration, and motioned them to withdraw to their hut, which they did, not over willingly, as Leslie thought. That same night he went to work and manufactured a canvas belt for Flora, to hold a brace of revolvers and a cartridge pouch; and the next morning early he took a small piece of board, some nine inches square, painted it to represent a target, and nailed it to a tree.

Then, girding the fully equipped belt round Flora's waist, he led her to the target, having first initiated her into the mystery of loading and discharging a revolver, and said to her--