So he had abandoned all pretence.  He was ready to face the world at her side.  She stole a loving glance at him as she cried—­

“Yes, Captain Anstruther, of the Indian Staff Corps.  If he will not tell you all that he has done, how he has saved my life twenty times, how he has fought single-handed against eighty men, ask me!”

The naval officer did not need to look a second time at Iris’s face to lengthen the list of Captain Anstruther’s achievements, by one more item.  He sighed.  A good sailor always does sigh when a particularly pretty girl is labeled “Engaged.”

But he could be very polite.

“Captain Anstruther does not appear to have left much for us to do, Miss Deane,” he said.  “Indeed,” turning to Robert, “is there any way in which my men will be useful?”

“I would recommend that they drag the green stuff off that fire and stop the smoke.  Then, a detachment should go round the north side of the island and drive the remaining Dyaks into the hands of the party you have landed, as I understand, at the further end of the south beach.  Mir Jan, the Mahommedan here, who has been a most faithful ally during part of our siege, will act as guide.”

The other man cast a comprehensive glance over the rock, with its scaling ladders and dangling rope-ladder, the cave, the little groups of dead or unconscious pirates—­for every wounded man who could move a limb had crawled away after the first shell burst—­and drew a deep breath.

“How long were you up there?” he asked.

“Over thirty hours.”

“It was a great fight!”

“Somewhat worse than it looks,” said Anstruther.  “This is only the end of it.  Altogether, we have accounted for nearly two score of the poor devils.”

“Do you think you can make them prisoners, without killing any more of them?” asked Iris.

“That depends entirely on themselves, Miss Deane.  My men will not fire a shot unless they encounter resistance.”

Robert looked towards the approaching boat.  She would not land yet for a couple of minutes.

“By the way,” he said, “will you tell me your name?”

“Playdon—­Lieutenant Philip H. Playdon.”

“Do you know to what nation this island belongs?”

“It is no-man’s land, I think.  It is marked ‘uninhabited’ on the chart.”

“Then,” said Anstruther, “I call upon you, Lieutenant Playdon, and all others here present, to witness that I, Robert Anstruther, late of the Indian Army, acting on behalf of myself and Miss Iris Deane, declare that we have taken possession of this island in the name of His Britannic Majesty the King of England, that we are the joint occupiers and owners thereof, and claim all property rights vested therein.”

These formal phrases, coming at such a moment, amazed his hearers.  Iris alone had an inkling of the underlying motive.

“I don’t suppose any one will dispute your title,” said the naval officer gravely.  He unquestionably imagined that suffering and exposure had slightly disturbed the other man’s senses, yet he had seldom seen any person who looked to be in more complete possession of his faculties.