Truda had disappeared. She presently rejoined them, clad in her usual way in one of the grass or fiber petticoats which she had resurrected from one of the houses of the women which had not been completely demolished. She had laid aside the light garments which Stephanie had put on her, and she seemed a different woman. They noticed it, of course, but made no comment. And now Dr. Welch, easily realizing that the friends would rather be alone, made his excuses and wandered away, out of hearing, at any rate, while he busied himself in observation and interesting studies.
"I'll have Captain Weatherby send a party of men to clear this away and give the bodies decent burial," said Maynard, breaking the solemn pause.
"That's good," observed Beekman; "I was about to suggest it."
"Well, there's nothing further to do here," said Stephanie. "Let's go back to the yacht."
"Before we go," broke in Harnash, "I've got something to tell you, Derrick, and the best place and time is here and now."
The moment had come!
"And I also have something to tell all of you," answered Beekman, realizing that he must settle his affairs sooner or later, and his natural temperament inclining him to sooner rather than later. Stephanie knew perfectly well what Beekman had to tell. She had not seen him and Truda together without becoming entirely aware of the state of affairs, but Beekman had no idea of the communication Harnash intended to make. He looked at him as he spoke. "Good God, old man, what's the matter?" he burst out. "You're as white as the spray yonder."
"I've a confession to make, and I want to tell you before I make it that I do it of my own free will. After you know what I've done, you will hardly believe that, but Mr. Maynard and Stephanie can both testify to that."
"We can," said Maynard.
"And we do," added Stephanie.