“What a curious dream I had, Sanders! I really believe I have been asleep!”
“And what is strange about that, since a full night 209 has passed since we last met? I hope you have had a good rest, even though your awaking was not so pleasant.”
Abe Storms was excessively chagrined, for his very action, when aroused so unexpectedly, would, of itself, have turned suspicion to the satchel, which he snatched up like a startled miser. This action, united with what Captain Bergen had said, and with what the young man himself had witnessed the preceding night, could not have failed to tell him that that rusty-looking valise––about which the owner was so careful––contained a great amount of wealth in some form.
But what of it?
This was the question Storms put to himself as he sprang up and called to Inez––who immediately appeared––and began the preparation for the last meal they expected to eat upon the detested island.
Captain Bergen was quiet and thoughtful, but the others were in high spirits.
The two natives made their meal on board the proa, where they stolidly awaited the coming of the passengers, the “baggage” having been transferred the day before. And the sun was no more than fairly above the horizon when the proa started on her eventful voyage to Wauparmur Island––a voyage destined to be marked by events of which no one on board dreamed.