"Well, months went by, and once more the stores on the island began to run short. It became imperatively necessary that a fresh supply should be obtained. To do this my father repainted and rerigged his boat, disguised himself and his men, and sailed off for Shanghai. Reaching that port, he sent his mate ashore to make the purchases. But suspicion seems to have been aroused, the man was arrested, and had not my father been warned in time and put to sea, he would have shared the same fate. But he was resolved not to be beaten, and at the risk of his life he went back and ashore. By means of a subterfuge, which it would take me too long to explain, he succeeded in rescuing his companion. In the course of the rescue, however, a man was killed, and this closed the treaty ports even more firmly to him than before.
"The matter had become terribly serious now. He could not go into any port for fear of being arrested, and yet stores had to be obtained for the starving island. To a headstrong man like my father, rendered desperate by deliberate injustice, there was only one natural way out of it. He made for Hong Kong, chose a dark night, went down the harbour in a junk, boarded a trading boat, confined the skipper in his cabin, and took possession of his cargo, for which, it is only fair to say, he paid the full market price. The skipper, however, for some purpose of his own, forgot the incident of payment, went ashore in the early morning and proclaimed the fact to the police that he had been robbed of his cargo under the very noses of the cruisers. The description of the robber tallied with that of my father, and the hue and cry began again. Thenceforward he declared himself openly in opposition to society, collected round him all the men who were worth anything, and whose lives were as desperate as his own, and levied toll on the ships of all nations whenever occasion offered. He ran many risks, for often he was sighted and chased by cruisers. It was on one of these occasions that my poor mother died, killed by an English bullet. Three months later my father caught the fever in the Manillas and followed her to the grave, bidding me, a girl of eighteen, keep up this settlement and carry on the war he had begun. Ever since then the island has been my tenderest care. I have watched over it and guarded it as a mother guards her child. But at the same time, as you know, I have not spared my enemies. My first adventure proved successful, my second well-nigh ruined me. My father's death had become known by some mysterious means, and, when it was discovered that I was carrying on his trade, a supreme effort was made by the authorities to capture me. But they have not succeeded yet. The same year I had the Lone Star, the boat you found me on, built in Scotland, and began my work in earnest. Ever since then I have had a price upon my head; but, as I told you on board the Lone Star, I can truthfully say that I have never knowingly robbed a poor man, and as you have seen for yourself, I have materially helped a good many. In some cases, too,—the Sultan of Surabaya, for instance,—I have gone out of my way to assist the oppressed, and have taught wholesome lessons to their rulers and oppressors. Now you know my story. It may be that you take a different view of my life and would call it by a harsh name. I should be sorry to think that. I simply remember how my father's life was ruined by his enemies, and that I have never been given a chance, even if I would have taken it. The English, French, and Chinese governments are my natural enemies, as they were my father's before me. If the innocent suffer by what I do, I am deeply sorry for them. But do your nations in their wars heed the peasantry of either side, even as much as I do? I think not. Dr. De Normanville, most of those white people you saw to-day have curious histories. Do not suppose for an instant that I receive anyone here without strict inquiry into his temperament and antecedents. But, on the other hand, when I do take him in, I never swerve from my duty towards him. Now, what have you to say?"
"I can only answer that I think your character has been grossly maligned."
"No, don't say that, for you are only speaking on the impulse of the moment; and, besides, you must remember that those who speak against me in that fashion look upon my actions from their own point of view. However, you will not think so badly of me for the future, will you?"
As she said this she came a little closer to me and looked me in the face. Never before had I seen her look so beautiful.
"No, I can safely promise you I won't," I answered stoutly. "I am your champion for the future, come what may."
"You are very good to me. Now, as we are both tired, had we not better say good-night?"
She held out her little hand, and for some reason, goodness only knows what, I took it and raised it to my lips. Then with another "good-night," she turned away from me and, with the dog at her heels, disappeared through the gate and up the path, among the bushes, that led to her abode.
When she had gone I stood for a few moments looking down upon the lovely panorama spread out before me, then I turned myself about and went down the hill to my residence at the foot. But though I went to bed it was not to sleep. The extraordinary story I had just been told, and the exciting events of the day, were not of a nature calculated to induce repose, and so I tossed and tumbled upon my couch hour after hour, till the first faint signs of dawn made their appearance. Then I had a bath in cool spring water, and, having dressed, went out and began to prepare my work for the day.
As the sun made his appearance above the tree-tops, Christianson and his colleagues, my trusty lieutenants, came up the path towards the house, and five minutes later Alie herself appeared upon the scene, eager to be employed. As she entered the verandah and greeted me I glanced at her face. But there was no trace there of the sadness of the previous night. Indeed, if the truth must be told, there was even a sort of distant haughtiness about her manner towards me, that was as unexpected as it was difficult to account for.