“Oh, Bulan,” cried the girl, “how in the world did you ever happen to come to that terrible island of ours?”
“I came for you, dear,” he replied. “It is a long story. After dinner I will tell you all of it that I can recall. For the present it must suffice you to know that I followed you from the railway station at Ithaca half around the world for a love that had been born from a single glance at your sweet face as you passed me to enter your Pullman.
“On my father’s yacht I reached your island after trailing you to Singapore. It was a long and tedious hunt and we followed many blind leads, but at last we came off an island upon which natives had told us such a party as yours was living. Five of us put off in a boat to explore—that is the last that I can recall. Sing says he found me alone in a row boat, a ‘dummy.’”
Virginia sighed, and crept closer to him.
“You may be the son of the great Townsend J. Harper, you have been the soulless Number Thirteen; but to me you will always be Bulan, for it was Bulan whom I learned to love.”