No later than that morning a steamer—­a small Dutch freighter—­had come to a stop off the harbour.  But it turned tail and fled within an hour.  No one came ashore; the malevolent tug went out and turned back the landing party which was ready to leave the ship’s side.  The watchers in the chateau knew what it was that the tug’s captain shouted through his trumpet at a safe distance from the steamer.  Through their glasses they saw the boat’s crew scramble back to the deck of the freighter; the action told the story plainer than words.

The black and yellow flags at the end of the company’s pier lent colour to a grewsome story!

The hopeless look deepened in the eyes of the watchers.  They saw the steamer move out to sea and then scuttle away as if pursued by demons.

Hollingsworth Chase alone maintained a stubborn air of confidence and unconcern.  He may not have felt as he looked, but something in his manner, assumed or real, kept the fires of hope alight in the breasts of all the others.

“Don’t be downhearted, Bowles,” he said to the moping British agent.  “You’ll soon be managing the bank again and patronising the American bar with the same old regularity.”

“My word, Mr. Chase,” groaned Bowles, “how can you say a thing like that?  I daresay they’ve blown the bank to Jericho by this time.  Besides, there won’t be an American bar.  And, moreover, I don’t intend to stay a minute longer than I have to on the beastly island.  This taste of the old high life has spoiled me for everything else.  I’m going back to London and sit on the banks of the Serpentine until it goes dry.  Stay here?  I should rather say not.”

There had been several vicious assaults upon the gates by the infuriated islanders during the day following the rescue of the heirs.  Their rage and disappointment knew no bounds.  For hours they acted like madmen; only the most determined resistance drove them back from the gates.  Some powerful influence suddenly exerted itself to restore them to a state of calmness.  They abruptly gave up the fruitless, insensate attacks upon the walls and withdrew to the town, apparently defeated.  The cause was obvious:  Rasula had convinced them that Death already was lifting his hand to blot out the lives of those who opposed them.

Bobby Browne was accomplishing wonders in the laboratory.  He seldom was seen outside the distilling room; his assiduity was marked, if not commented upon.  Hour after hour he stood watch over the water that went up in vapour and returned to the crystal liquid that was more precious than rubies and sapphires.  He was redeeming himself, just as he was redeeming the water from the poison that had made it useless.  He experimented with lizards:  the water as it came from the springs brought quick death to the little reptiles.  The fishes in the aquarium died before it occurred to any one to remove them from the noxious water.

Drusilla kept close to his side during all of these operations.  She seemed afraid or ashamed to join the others; she avoided Lady Deppingham as completely as possible.  Her effort to be friendly when they were thrown together was almost pitiable.