“Yes.”
“Well, I’m Vanderdecken.”
“You’re which?”
“I’m Vanderdecken. The swab that pirated those yachts.”
“You!” said Tommie.
“Yes. I’m the swab.”
A long pause followed this definite statement. The gulls cried and the waves broke. Tommie, leaning on her elbow and watching the breaking waves, seemed trying to adjust her mind to this idea and failing utterly. She was not considering the question of how Vanderdecken, who was being chased by Hank and George, had managed to be in partners with them; she was up against the great fact that Candon was a robber. It seemed impossible to her, yet he said so.
“But what made you do it?” she cried, suddenly sitting up and looking straight at him.
“I didn’t start to do it,” said he, throwing the unlit pipe beside him on the sand. “All the same I did it, and I’ll tell you how it was.” He sat up and holding his knees started to talk, telling her the whole business.
It sounded worse than when he told Hank and George, for he gave nothing in extenuation, just the hard bricks. But hard bricks were good enough for Tommie; she could build better with them and quicker than if he had handed her out ornamental tiles to be inserted at given positions.