, amounted to something under
twenty-five shillings; but to a man with just one penny in his pocket
this left no choice but between recklessness and panic, and the
Commandant's spirits swung from one to the other like a pendulum. Panic
asserted itself in the small hours, when he awoke in his bed and
wondered what would happen when pay-day came, should it bring no pay
with it ... and to a man lying sleepless in the small hours, the worst
seems not only possible but likely. Then, as daylight waxed and he
awoke again from a short doze, to his surprise he found himself
absolutely reckless. As well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb! The
ordeal lay three days off, and in three days anything might happen; but
meanwhile this was certainly happening--a woman accomplished and
beautiful had stepped into his life and was changing all the colour of
it. He guessed the danger, put purposely averted his thoughts from it
and from the certainty of scandal. Archelaus, Treacher, Mrs.
Treacher--all three had been sworn to secrecy, and all three could be
trusted. These folks read no harm, nothing beyond an amusing mystery,
in Vashti's sojourn, and in particular she had made Mrs. Treacher her
obedient slave. Yet the secret must come out, and in spite of
Archelaus, who had brought his master's boat round and moored her
cunningly under the lee of the rocks overhung by the Keg of Butter
Battery. There, while the weather held, the Commandant and his guest
could slip away without fear of prying eyes and sail off among the
islands--as they had sailed off yesterday, Vashti sitting low and
covering herself with a spare-sail, until beyond sight of St. Lide's
quay and the houses on the slope. To be sure they had to reckon with
Mr. Rogers' telescope, or rather to leave it out of account. If Mr.
Rogers' telescope should prove indiscreet, Mr. Rogers must be let into
the secret, and might be relied on to join the conspiracy.

The Commandant, however, was in no hurry to share his happiness. Since
his youth he had made few friends, and in all his life had never known
comradeship with a woman. Suddenly, and as a well-spring in the desert,
Vashti had come into the dull round of his duty--his purposeless,
monotonous duty--to refresh it; nor perhaps were the waters less sweet
for the feeling that they were stolen. So he lived in the day, and put
off thinking of the inevitable end.

One thing only troubled his happiness. He foresaw that the end, when it
came,