hey--Rawlings and the others--have spared him so
long?" inquired Barry.

"Neither Barradas nor Rawlings were navigators," replied Mrs. Tracey
quickly.

"Ah, I see," and the chief officer stroked his beard thoughtfully; "but
yet, you see, Rawlings would have sailed without a navigator on board
had he not met me on the wharf that night."

"Perhaps so--yet I do not think it. He has the cunning of Satan
himself."

"Indeed he has, ma'am," broke in Joe. "Why, sir," turning to Barry,
"the night we sailed he drugged the Custom House officer and flung him
into the dinghy. Then when you was for'ard heavin' up anchor the Greek
and two of the native chaps took him ashore, and chucked him down on
the wharf."

"The scoundrel!" exclaimed Barry, thinking of the letter he had written
to Rose Maynard that night. "But how do you know this?"

"I been tell Joe jus' now," said one of the native seamen; "de captain
give me an' Billy Onotoa ten shilling to take that man ashore with the
bos'un. An' he say if we tell any one he kill us by an' by."

"The ruffian!" muttered Barry.

"Now that you have told me your own story, Mr. Barry," said Mrs. Tracey
excitedly, "let me tell you mine from the beginning, and show you how
this heartless wretch has imposed upon you from the very first. The
tale he has given you is a tissue of lies, interwoven with a thread of
truth."

"I can well believe it now. Many things which have hitherto puzzled me
are now clear enough."

"Nearly two years ago," began Mrs. Tracey, "my husband owned and sailed
a small cutter of thirty tons, trading among the Marshall and Caroline
Islands. His headquarters were at Jaluit, in the Marshall Islands,
where he had a store, and where I lived whilst he was away on his
cruises. During the seven years we spent among these islands I would
often accompany him, for it was very lonely on Jaluit--only natives to
talk to--and he would sometimes be away many months at a time.

"On our last voyage in the cutter we called in at Port Lele on Strong's
Island. Old Gurden, the trader there, and my husband had had business
dealings with each other for many years. He was a good-hearted but
very intemperate man, and several times we had taken him away with us
in the cutter, when he was in a deplorable condition from the effects
of drink, and nursed him back to health and reason again. On this
occasion we were pleased to find him well, though rather despondent,
for he had, he s