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999 PRISCILLA
As the cutter touched the bank the entire party from the long-house,whites and natives, were gathered on the shore to meet it. At firstthe officers held off as though fearing a hostile demonstration, butwhen they saw the whites among the throng, a command was given to pullin, and a moment later one of the officers stepped ashore.
"I am Lieutenant May," he said, "of the U.S.S. New Mexico, flagship ofthe Pacific Fleet. Have I the honor to address Professor Maxon?"
The scientist nodded. "I am delighted," he said.
"We have been to your island, Professor," continued the officer, "andjudging from the evidences of hasty departure, and the corpses ofseveral natives there, I feared that some harm had befallen you. Wetherefore cruised along the Bornean coast making inquiries of thenatives until at last we found one who had heard a rumor of a party ofwhites being far in the interior searching for a white girl who hadbeen stolen from them by pirates.
"The farther up this river we have come the greater our assurance thatwe were on the right trail, for scarcely a native we interrogated buthad seen or heard of some of your party. Mixed with the truth theytold us were strange tales of terrible monsters led by a gigantic whiteman."
"The imaginings of childish minds," said the professor. "However, why,my dear lieutenant, did you honor me by visiting my island?"
The officer hesitated a moment before answering, his eyes running aboutover the assembly as though in search of someone.
"Well, Professor Maxon, to be quite frank," he said at length, "welearned at Singapore the personnel of your party, which included aformer naval officer whom we have been seeking for many years. We cameto your island to arrest this man--I refer to Doctor Carl von Horn."
When the lieutenant learned of the recent disappearance of the man hesought, he expressed his determination to push on at once in pursuit;and as Professor Maxon feared again to remain unprotected in the heartof the Bornean wilderness his entire party was taken aboard the cutter.
A few miles up the river they came upon one of the Dyaks who hadaccompanied von Horn, a few hours earlier. The warrior sat smokingbeside a beached prahu. When interrogated he explained that von Hornand the balance of his crew had gone inland, leaving him to guard theboat. He said that he thought he could guide them to the spot wherethe white man might be found.
Professor Maxon and Sing accompanied one of the officers and a dozensailors in the wake of the Dyak guide. Virginia and Bulan remained inthe cutter, as the latter was still too weak to attempt the hard marchthrough the jungle. For an hour the party traversed the trail in thewake of von Horn and his savage companions. They had come almost tothe spot when their ears were assailed by the weird and blood curdlingyells of native warriors, and a moment later von Horn's escort dashedinto view in full retreat.
At sight of the white men they halted in relief, pointing back in thedirection they had come, and jabbering excitedly in their nativetongue. Warily the party advanced again behind these new guides; butwhen they reached the spot they sought, the cause of the Dyaks' panichad fled, warned, doubtless, by their trained ears of the approach ofan enemy.
The sight that met the eyes of the searchers told all of the story thatthey needed to know. A hole had been excavated in the ground,partially uncovering a heavy chest, and across this chest lay theheadless body of Doctor Carl von Horn.
Lieutenant May turned toward Professor Maxon with a questioning look.
"It is he," said the scientist.
"But the chest?" inquired the officer.
"Mlaxon's tleasure," spoke up Sing Lee. "Hornee him tly steal it forlong time."
"Treasure!" ejaculated the professor. "Bududreen gave up his life forthis. Rajah Muda Saffir fought and intrigued and murdered forpossession of it! Poor, misguided von Horn has died for it, and lefthis head to wither beneath the rafters of a Dyak long-house! It isincredible."
"But, Professor Maxon," said Lieutenant May, "men will suffer all thesethings and more for gold."
"Gold!" cried the professor. "Why, man, that is a box of books onbiology and eugenics."
"My God!" exclaimed May, "and von Horn was accredited to be one of theshrewdest swindlers and adventurers in America! But come, we may aswell return to the cutter--my men will carry the chest."
"No!" exclaimed Professor Maxon with a vehemence the other could notunderstand. "Let them bury it again where it lies. It and what itcontains have been the cause of sufficient misery and suffering andcrime. Let it lie where it is in the heart of savage Borneo, and prayto God that no man ever finds it, and that I shall forget forever thatwhich is in it."
On the morning of the third day following the death of von Horn the NewMexico steamed away from the coast of Borneo. Upon her deck, lookingback toward the verdure clad hills, stood Virginia and Bulan.
"Thank heaven," exclaimed the girl fervently, "that we are leaving itbehind us forever."
"Amen," replied Bulan, "but yet, had it not been for Borneo I mightnever have found you."
"We should have met elsewhere then, Bulan," said the girl in a lowvoice, "for we were made for one another. No power on earth could havekept us apart. In your true guise you would have found me--I am sureof it."
"It is maddening, Virginia," said the man, "to be constantly strainingevery resource of my memory in futile endeavor to catch and hold onefleeting clue to my past. Why, dear, do you realize that I may havebeen a fugitive from justice, as was von Horn, a vile criminal perhaps.It is awful, Virginia, to contemplate the horrible possibilities of mylost past."
"No, Bulan, you could never have been a criminal," replied the loyalgirl, "but there is one possibility that has been haunting meconstantly. It frightens me just to think of it--it is," and the girllowered her voice as though she feared to say the thing she dreadedmost, "it is that you may have loved another--that--that you may evenbe married."
Bulan was about to laugh away any such fears when the gravity andimportance of the possibility impressed him quite as fully as it hadVirginia. He saw that it was not at all unlikely that he was already amarried man; and he saw too what the girl now acknowledged, that theymight never wed until the mystery of his past had been cleared away.
"There is something that gives weight to my fear," continued Virginia,"something that I had almost forgotten in the rush and excitement ofevents during the past few days. During your delirium your ravingswere, for the most part, quite incoherent, but there was one name thatyou repeated many times--a woman's name, preceded by a number. It was'Nine ninety nine Priscilla.' Maybe she--"
But Virginia got no further. With a low exclamation of delight Bulancaught her in his arms.
"It is all right, dear," he cried. "It is all right. Everything hascome back to me now. You have given me the clue. Nine ninety ninePriscilla is my father's address--Nine ninety nine Priscilla Avenue.
"I am Townsend J. Harper, Jr. You have heard of my father. Every onehas since he commenced consolidating interurban traction companies.And I'm not married, Virginia, and never have been; but I shall be ifthis miserable old mud scow ever reaches Singapore."
"Oh, Bulan," cried the girl, "how in the world did you ever happen tocome to that terrible island of ours?"
"I came for you, dear," he replied. "It is a long story. After dinnerI will tell you all of it that I can recall. For the present it mustsuffice you to know that I followed you from the railway station atIthaca half around the world for a love that had been born from asingle glance at your sweet face as you passed me to enter your Pullman.
"On my father's yacht I reached your island after trailing you toSingapore. It was a long and tedious hunt and we followed many blindleads, but at last we came off an island upon which natives had told ussuch a party as yours was living. Five of us put off in a boat toexplore--that is the last that I can recall. Sing says he found mealone in a row boat, a 'dummy.'"
Virginia sighed, and crept closer to him.
"You may be
the son of the great Townsend J. Harper, you have been thesoulless Number Thirteen; but to me you will always be Bulan, for itwas Bulan whom I learned to love."
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