y let you go back without
me."

"I shall not do that, you know."

"It is foolish, perhaps, to let our minds dwell on the future," said
Brian, after a moment's pause; "but the more I think of it the more I
wonder that your mind is so set upon dragging me back to England. You
know that I don't want to go. You know that that business could be
settled just as well without me as with me; better, in fact. I shall
have to stultify myself; to repudiate my own actions; to write myself
down an ass."

"Good for you," said Percival, with an ironical smile.

"Possibly; but I don't see what you gain by it."

"Love of dominion, my dear fellow. I want to drag you as a captive at my
chariot-wheels, of course. We will have a military band at the Dunmuir
Station, and it shall play 'See the conquering hero comes.'"

"Very well. I don't mind assisting at your triumph."

"Hum! My triumph? Wait till that day arrives, and we shall see. What's
that fellow making frantic signs about from that biggest palm-tree? It
looks as if----Good Heavens, Brian, it's a sail!"

He dashed the net that he had been making to the ground, and rushed off
at the top of his speed to the place where a pile of wood and seaweed
had been heaped to make a bonfire. Brian followed with almost equal
swiftness. The others had already collected at the spot, and in a few
minutes a thin, wavering line of smoke rose up into the air, and flashes
of fire began to creep amongst the carefully-dried fuel.

For a time they all watched the sail in silence. Others had been seen
before; others had faded away into the blue distance, and left their
hearts sick and sore. Would this one vanish like the others? Was their
column of smoke, now rising thick and black towards the cloudless sky,
big enough to be seen by the man on the look-out? And, if it was
seen--what then? Why, even then, they might choose to avoid that
perilous reef, and pass it by.

"It's coming nearer," said Jackson, at last, in a loud whisper.

Brian looked at Percival, then turned away and fixed his eyes once more
upon the distant sail. There was something in Percival's face which he
hardly cared to see. The veins on his forehead were swollen, his lips
were nearly bitten through, his eyes were strained with that passionate
longing for deliverance to which he seldom gave vent in words. If this
vessel brought no succour, Brian trembled to think of the force of the
reaction from that intense desire. For himself, B