Two days after these reflections the _Pompeia_ was making her entrance under very light sail into that river--spoken of variously by Nicholas as a canal, an inlet, and an outlet--in which the fight with the _Etoyle_ had taken place. And it almost seemed to Reginald as if he must himself have been a partaker of that fight, so visibly did his predecessor's story rise before his mind now that he was in the very spot. "It was here," he thought, as he lowered the last remaining yard of sail, "that the _Etoyle_ was across the stream, there that the galliot lay before they went at them. Heavens and earth! why does not Nicholas rise up before my sight with his round face and light bob wig, as he appears in the little picture at home, and in his scarlet coat?--but--no, he would not have them on here. Those braveries were not for cruises such as he was upon." Then he looked around again. "Which, I wonder, was the spot where Alderly drew up the box from under the water, and where he murdered the diver? Which the spot where the path led up to the hut? Why does not some spirit rise to point these things out to me?" All was very calm here now as the romantic young man indulged in these meditations. There was no sign of life about the island--of human life; it was as still as though it were uninhabited. Yet all the tropic life was there, all the gorgeous colouring of which the Yankee settler--if he were a Yankee--who told him the story of the place had spoken. The fan-palms, the moriches, and the gros-gros grew side by side; red poinsettias mingled with wild begonias, purple dracæna and yellow crotons; the rattans and orchids were tangled together in an indescribable confusion of beauty. "It is the isle of Nicholas's description. No doubt about that!" said Reginald. "And," he continued, drawing his pipe from his pocket and lighting it, "I am here as once Nick was here. What a pity there is no one to represent the murdered diver and his assassin, the drunken, maddened pirate." As he reflected thus he heard the bark of a dog a little distance off; a few moments later he heard another sound as though branches were being parted; presently a voice spoke to the dog, and then the foliage growing down to the river's bank was pushed aside, and a woman came out from that foliage and stood gazing at him. "Who are you?" she asked. "And what do you want?"