I waved my hand to him and off we set. Once more our route lay in the direction of the consul's office, and arriving there, I was ushered into his presence forthwith. It seemed to me that on this occasion he regarded me in rather a somewhat different light.
"I suppose you're aware," he began, when the case was opened, "of the serious nature of the charge against you?"
I told him I was.
"Have you anything more to say on the subject?"
"Nothing, but that I am the victim of a villainous conspiracy," I answered. "I certainly did struggle with the man, and I don't deny that I hit him, but it was in purest self-defence. He was a noted bad character, and only came aboard at Thursday Island as a stowaway. On the occasion in question I had reprimanded him several times without any effect, and I was in the act of doing so again when he rushed at me. Had I not closed with him, he would have dashed my brains out with a belaying-pin. It was my fault that he died, but though I struck him, I had not the very faintest intention of killing him. I don't know who laid the charge against me, but that it was preferred simply to get me out of the way, I am as certain as that I stand before you now."
Thereupon, being permitted, I set to work and told him my story, just as I had told it to Veneda the preceding night. He listened with the utmost attention, and having asked me one or two questions, said—
"I am inclined to believe you. There is certainly something very underhand somewhere."
Stopping his examination, he wrote something on a sheet of paper, and ringing a bell, ordered that it should be despatched immediately. It was a telegram, I discovered later, to Thursday Island. Having done this, he recommenced his examination, and finally remarked—"I have sent for some information about you; until I receive it, you will be detained here."
Turning to the police, he said something in Dutch, whereupon I was marched into another room, and locked up. During the period of waiting my thoughts were none of the pleasantest. From a consideration of my own position, they wandered to the strange story Veneda had told me, and thence, by natural transition, to Juanita and her professed love for myself. From Juanita they passed back, across what seemed a vast interval of years, to my first love Maud; and as I allowed my mind to dwell upon her sweet face, her ladylike manners, her gentle disposition, and her general refinement, a great home-sickness came upon me, and I resolved then and there, that if ever the opportunity offered, I would forsake my wandering life, and go back to England, like the prodigal son, never to leave it again so long as I should live.
While these thoughts were thronging my brain, I was again summoned into the consul's presence. This time he greeted me with a smile.