ing you further. If I take them to
Singapore they will be tried on your evidence and sent to penal
servitude. Which is it to be?"

It was Iris who decided.

"I cannot bear to think of more lives being sacrificed," she protested.
"Perhaps if these men are treated mercifully and sent to their homes
after some punishment their example may serve as a deterrent to
others."

So it was settled that way. The anchor rattled up to its berth and the
_Orient_ turned her head towards Singapore. As she steadily passed
away into the deepening azure, the girl and her lover watched the
familiar outlines of Rainbow Island growing dim in the evening light.
For a long while they could see Mir Jan's tall, thin figure motionless
on a rock at the extremity of Europa Point. Their hut, the reef, the
ledge, came into view as the cruiser swung round to a more northerly
course.

Iris had thrown an arm across her father's shoulders. The three were
left alone just then, and they were silent for many minutes. At last,
the flying miles merged the solitary palm beyond the lagoon with the
foliage on the cliff. The wide cleft of Prospect Park grew less
distinct. Mir Jan's white-clothed figure was lost in the dark
background. The island was becoming vague, dream-like, a blurred
memory.

"Robert," said the girl devoutly, "God has been very good to us."

"Yes," he replied. "I was thinking, even this instant, of the verse
that is carved on the gate of the Memorial Well at Cawnpore: 'These are
they which came out of great tribulation.' We, too, have come out of
great tribulation, happily with our lives--and more. The decrees of
fate are indeed inscrutable."

Iris turned to him a face roseate with loving comprehension.

"Do you remember this hour yesterday?" she murmured--"how we suffered
from thirst--how the Dyaks began their second attack from the
ridge--how you climbed down the ladder and I followed you? Oh father,
darling," she went on impulsively, tightening her grasp, "you will
never know how brave he was, how enduring, how he risked all for me and
cheered me to the end, even though the end seemed to be the grave."

"I think I am beginning to understand now," answered the shipowner,
averting his eyes lest Iris should see the tears in them. Their Calvary
was ended, they thought--was it for him to lead them again through the
sorrowful way? It was a heartrending task that lay before him, a task
from which his soul revolted. He refused even to at