Nevertheless, when it became necessary to search and disrobe the women he almost broke down.  For an instant he softened.  Gulping back his emotions with a savage imprecation he doggedly persevered.  At last he paused to consider what should be done with the bodies.  His first intent was to scoop a large hole in the sand with a piece of timber; but when he took into consideration the magnitude of the labor involved, requiring many hours of hard work and a waste of precious time which might be of infinite value to his helpless companion and himself, he was forced to abandon the project.  It was not only impracticable but dangerous.

Again he had to set his teeth with grim resolution.  One by one the bodies were shot into the lagoon from the little quay of rock.  He knew they would not be seen again.

He was quite unnerved now.  He felt as if he had committed a colossal crime.  In the smooth water of the cove a number of black fins were cutting arrow-shaped ripples.  The sharks were soon busy.  He shuddered.  God’s Providence had ferried him and the girl across that very place a few hours ago.  How wonderful that he and she should be snatched from the sea whilst hundreds perished!  Why was it?  And those others—­why were they denied rescue?  For an instant he was nearer to prayer than he had been for years.

Some lurking fiend of recollection sprang from out the vista of bygone years and choked back the impulse.  He arose and shook himself like a dog.  There was much to be done.  He gathered the clothes and other articles into a heap and placed portions of shattered packing-cases near—­to mislead Iris.  Whilst thus engaged he kicked up out of the sand a rusty kriss, or Malay sword.  The presence of this implement startled him.  He examined it slowly and thrust it out of sight.

Then he went back to her, after donning his stockings and boots, now thoroughly dry.

“Are you ready now, Miss Deane?” he sang out cheerily.

“Ready?  I have been waiting for you.”

Jenks chuckled quietly.  “I must guard my tongue:  it betrays me,” he said to himself.

Iris joined him.  By some mysterious means she had effected great improvement in her appearance.  Yet there were manifest gaps.

“If only I had a needle and thread—­” she began.

“If that is all,” said the sailor, fumbling in his pockets.  He produced a shabby little hussif, containing a thimble, scissors, needles and some skeins of unbleached thread.  Case and contents were sodden or rusted with salt water, but the girl fastened upon this treasure with a sigh of deep content.

“Now, please,” she cried, “I want a telegraph office and a ship.”

It was impossible to resist the infection of her high spirits.  This time he laughed without concealment.

“We will look for them, Miss Deane.  Meanwhile, will you oblige me by wearing this?  The sun is climbing up rapidly.”