"Go on," urged Barry, as she paused.
"That is all, I think, Captain. While I believed him, of course I doubted you, whom I had met but once or twice. Then after Mr. Gordon recovered and I heard a dispute one day between him and Leyden, when Gordon and I had been left alone for an hour, I saw a light and demanded to know the truth of Mrs. Goring, whom I had grown to love. The story she told was duplicated by Mr. Gordon, and again by Lieutenant Vandersee, backed up by a stolen glimpse at the Padang's papers, showing she had cleared for Europe, and not for Batavia, as I had been led to believe. I was forced to see the horrible situation I had placed myself in; for if this schooner ever got out to sea—" She stopped in distress, and Barry pressed her hand gently. He asked quietly:
"And you believe in me now, Natalie?"
"I have never doubted you since that horrible day I saw you on the ant hill. But since that day I, too, have played a part. Mrs. Goring's proved wrongs and my own narrow escape steeled me to help Vandersee, as he asked me. I did my poor best, Captain; but I am so glad it's all over."
Barry realized that the tale was told. His first impulse was to give Gordon a hard hand-grip of friendship; his second to tell Mrs. Goring his high opinion of her courage and loyalty. He followed both impulses, but felt a little embarrassment in addressing the lady of various names. He took Mrs. Goring's hand in his and remarked with a smile:
"I scarcely know how to address you now. Is it Mrs. Goring? or have I got it wrong? Should it be Mrs. Gordon? Pardon me if I'm floundering."
"Not Gordon, yet, Captain," she replied, and again the hint of pain in her eyes was banished by a resolute smile. "I am still Miss Vandersee. I have never been married. I took a married name after—after—well, there was a little one, you know," she murmured softly, "a tiny life to be guarded from the poison of tongues. So I stole a name for its sake. It is dead now. I am Miss Vandersee."
A deep silence was marked by the men walking away and leaving the two women to their own thoughts; and the relief was welcomed when Vandersee reported the steam launch in sight. In five minutes it was alongside, and the men in her held the ladder for Little. The ex-typewriter salesman travelled light enough now, for all his worldly belongings reposed somewhere among the drenched and shattered interior of the brigantine.
"Well, so long, Jack Barry, old scout!" he shouted, after he had made his adieux to the rest. "We've had a lot o' sport since I dug you out o' the dumps in Batavia. I'm staying here until Mr. and Mrs. Gordon come to relieve me; then I'll see you again, either in Java, or at the post, if you decide to try Celebes again. Stick to Cornelius, Jack. He's tickled silly with you; never mind about the ship you lost. So-long, all!"
The cheery fellow dropped into the launch and waved her on her way up the river with a lordly air of command that brought a grin of reminiscence to Barry's face. Then Houten's rumbling voice boomed in his ear, and he heard his destiny and that of all hands.