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Chapter 15 - TOO LATE
For a moment the two stood in silence; Bulan tortured by thoughts of the bitter
humiliation that he must suffer when the girl should learn his identity; Virginia
wondering at the sad lines that had come into the young man's face, and at his
silence.
It was the girl who first spoke. "Who are you," she asked, "to whom I owe my
safety?"
The man hesitated. To speak aught than the truth had never occurred to him
during his brief existence. He scarcely knew how to lie. To him a question
demanded but one manner of reply--the facts. But never before had he had to
face a question where so much depended upon his answer. He tried to form the
bitter, galling words; but a vision of that lovely face suddenly transformed with
horror and disgust throttled the name in his throat.
"I am Bulan," he said, at last, quietly.
"Bulan," repeated the girl. "Bulan. Why that is a native name. You are either an
Englishman or an American. What is your true name?"
"My name is Bulan," he insisted doggedly.
Virginia Maxon thought that he must have some good reason of his own for
wishing to conceal his identity. At first she wondered if he could be a fugitive
from justice--the perpetrator of some horrid crime, who dared not divulge his true
name even in the remote fastness of a Bornean wilderness; but a glance at his
frank and noble countenance drove every vestige of the traitorous thought from
her mind. Her woman's intuition was sufficient guarantee of the nobility of his
character.
"Then let me thank you, Mr. Bulan," she said, "for the service that you have
rendered a strange and helpless woman."
He smiled.
"Just Bulan," he said. "There is no need for Miss or Mister in the savage jungle,
Virginia."
The girl flushed at the sudden and unexpected use of her given name, and was
surprised that she was not offended.
"
How do you know my name?" she asked.
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