“With Grenits?” asked Anna, “Theodoor Grenits? Is he with you here?”
“Yes, my love, he is—but, as I was saying, when we started, on that very morning Mr. and Mrs. van Gulpendam set out for Soeka maniesan.”
“Soeka maniesan?” inquired Anna, “what place may that be?”
“It is a sugar factory situated in the extreme east of the Residence of Santjoemeh. It was not until after we had reached Gombong that we received tidings of the sad event. A telegram.”
And then, in as few words as he could, he told the poor girl all he knew. It was not much and amounted simply to the fact that both the Resident and his wife had been murdered by a band of robbers. The letter in which van Rheijn promised to give further details was, no doubt, at that moment waiting for them at Gombong. When he had told Anna all he knew, van Nerekool paused for a few moments. He wished to give the poor girl time to recover, in some measure, from the terrible blow that had so suddenly fallen upon her. She was literally overwhelmed with sorrow and sat leaning up against him weeping bitterly. Her nature had but little in common with that of her parents. She herself had brought about the parting—of her own free will she had left her parents’ roof, with the settled determination of never returning to it again. But now, death had stepped in—death had made that parting irrevocable—death had made a reunion impossible—and now, all her affections at once flew back to the beings to whom she owed her life. Now she clean forgot all the dreary past, she clean forgot all that was bad, only to remember, with the greater tenderness, whatever had been kind and good. Yes, she was, indeed and in truth, deeply affected, and, had it been in her power, she would have laid down her life to undo the past.
While they were sitting thus the ebb tide had fairly set in, and the water was beginning rapidly to draw back. Every successive wave, as it rushed into the cave, was less violent and retreated also more quietly. That went on until the fury of the water had entirely abated, and presently they were merely ripples that entered the Goewah Temon.
“Now, my dearest Anna,” said van Nerekool, anxious to break the silence and to lead her thoughts into another channel, “now it is time to move, or else we might be surprised by another tide.”
She raised her head and looked about her. When she saw that the sea was calm she also felt that no time was to be lost. She wiped away her tears.
“Yes,” said she, “we must get out of this place; but, can you swim? For, you see, the water which is standing in the mouth of the cave yonder is much too deep to wade through. Yes? Then that is all right—there is no fear—we shall soon get to the ladder.”
With these words she prepared to leave the stone on which they had found a safe resting-place, and was getting ready to slip into the water; but Charles kept her back, and gently pressing her to him, he said: