"Here I am, my dear," the priest answered.
At the sound of that voice, Bill Parker forgot all about the guns in his pockets, Johnny Retch, Montezuma's treasure, and everything else that was on this island. He stood stock still, paralyzed.
A girl came through the opening into the treasure room. She wore a dark dress; sandals; her hands were gloved; she had apparently been working at some task. She smiled at Ulnar, glanced at Parker, nodded, looked at Rozeno, smiled, then glanced back quickly at Parker as if he reminded her of someone she had once known, then turned again to the priest. "Father, I have been cleaning all morning—"
So far she got. Bill Parker broke his paralysis and swept her into his arms.
"Effra—Effra—Effra—" His voice was a choked whisper, almost inaudible in the treasure chamber of Montezuma. As she had come through the door, his mind had given him a flashing picture of the plane wrecked on the shore. Effra, fleeing from Dr. Yammer, had taken one last desperate chance on finding her island; one last lonely flight out over the Pacific. No wonder he had been unable to find her. She had found her island. She had come here. She was here, in his arms.
There was wonder and awe and bewilderment in the big pilot. Here was a miracle almost past the understanding. "I've found you—Effra—"
For an instant, she lay in his arms like a frightened child who dared not move. "Please—" she whispered. He did not hear her. His lips sought hers, found them. She did not draw away, but neither did she respond. "Effra—" Parker looked up. Rozeno and Ulnar were regarding him with mild astonishment. In his arms, Effra stirred again. "Please—let me go."
This time the big pilot heard her. Setting her back on her feet was one of the hastiest movements he had ever made in his life. "Effra—I did not mean to startle you—but darling—"
She stood irresolute, staring at him. "Please—You have no right—"
He saw that her eyes, fixed on him, regarded him as an utter and complete stranger.