From his cutter to the shore, thirty to forty feet off, he in return gazed upon her, though his surprise did not prevent his remembering he was a gentleman, and, from the distance, taking off his hat to her while he put away his pipe. She stood before him, surrounded by all that luxuriance of colour and tropical vegetation, a girl "something more than common tall," and of, perhaps, nearly twenty years of age. A girl dressed in a light cotton gown--a very West Indian robe, both in its plain quality and pattern--that hung loosely upon her, yet did not conceal the shapely form beneath. On her head she wore a large napping straw hat, but it was not at her hat, but at what was beneath it, that Reginald looked. Her features were beautiful--there is no other word but this simple one to describe them--her colouring that which is often found in these regions, but scarcely anywhere else; the eyes a dark, lustrous hazel, the eyebrows black, the hair, which hung down like a mane upon her back, golden, with a tinge of copper red in it. "Who are you?" she asked again, though he noticed that her voice was not a harsh one, nor, in spite of the question, an angry one. "What do you require?" "Pardon me," replied Reginald, still spellbound at her appearance. "Pardon me. I hope this is no intrusion. I am yachting in a small way about the islands here. And among other places that attracted my attention was this river. I trust my presence is not objectionable." "No," the girl replied quietly. Then she said, "Do you belong to the islands, or are you English or American?" "I am English," he answered. "A sailor in Her Majesty's service." She paused a moment, as though, it seemed to him, scarce knowing what to say, then she spoke again. "Are you going to land?" "If I may do so. If it is permissible." "Oh, yes," she said. "You may do so. Sometimes people land here." He took her permission at once, and, dropping the cutter's anchor, drew up the dinghy that was aft of her, and, getting into it, stepped on shore close by her side. And, as he did so, he wondered, "Was it here that Nicholas landed?" Then once more taking off his hat as he came near to her, he said: "Why do people sometimes land here? Have you any particular object of interest in your island?" He would like to have added in a gallant fashion, and sailor-like, "besides yourself," but, on consideration, refrained from doing so. The girl smiled, as he could see, while she bent down to quiet the dog that was jumping about Reginald as though welcoming a new acquaintance. Then she replied-- "No, not any particular object. Yet people come here because there is a history attached to my family, or, perhaps I should say, my family really has a history connected with this island--though I for one do not believe it." "And that history is?" Reginald asked eagerly.