Of course it could not be the same; the old one must long ago have rotted away, even if not pulled down. This to which the girl led him was a large, substantial wooden building, painted white and green, with all around it--which made it appear even larger--a balcony, or piazza, and with jalousies thrown over the rails of the piazza from above the windowless frames. On the balcony were rude though comfortable chairs covered with striped Osnaburgh cloths; against the railing there stood a gun--it was hers!--and there were large calabashes standing about, some full of water and some empty, with smaller ones for drinking from. "This is my home," the girl said. "And it is here that we have lived for nearly two hundred years, the house being rebuilt as it fell into disrepair from time to time. I pray you to be seated. Later, when you have rested, you shall see where the diggings have been made in the searches for the supposed treasure." "And where," said Reginald, speaking as one in a stupor, "is the spot you told me of, the cellar where the treasure once had been?" "It is below the floor of this verandah we are standing on. Why do you ask?" "Your story interests me so," he replied. "It seems so like a dream. But," he continued, "later on, another day, perhaps you will tell me all of it. For instance, I should so much like to know how your ancestor, who at last never returned, came to possess the treasure and to leave it buried here." "He found it here," she said, "by chance, and ever afterwards he made this island a resort of his. I have told you he was a bad man--I am afraid, a pirate." Again there came a feeling into Reginald's mind that he was losing his senses, that he was going mad. And the next question he asked, with the answer he received, might, indeed, have justified him in so thinking. "Will you tell me," he said, "to whom I owe this hospitable reception on Coffin Island? Will you tell me your name?" "My name," she replied, "is Barbara Alderly." CHAPTER XXXI. SOME LIGHT UPON THE PAST. Her name was Barbara Alderly! This girl whose beauty was as fresh and pure as her mind was innocent, the girl who--in spite of being able to shoot birds for her food and cook them too, or to sail a boat as well as Reginald himself could do--looked as delicate as any girl brought up in an English country house, was Barbara Alderly, _his_, the pirate's, descendant! It seemed impossible--impossible that she could claim relationship with such as he had been; yet it was so!