f her crew, had faded, a singular silence fell. The
plash of the oars was the only sound that broke on the ears. The air
was soft and serene; nature seemed to have at last relented, and to be
out of key with those tragic deeds committed on the sea. As I sat,
passing such reflections in my mind, I heard a voice at my ear in
French:

"But, Monsieur, where is my mistress?"

It was Juliette, faithful still. I had to explain, and she cried out in
alarm, and then was silent. She was above all a practical woman, as I
had gathered, and no doubt she saw the position. Mademoiselle was gone,
and it was patent how she was gone. Holgate's words had put her fate
beyond uncertainty. She was in the hands of the mutineers, but with
what object I could not guess. Possibly, Holgate had some thought that
she was privy to the hiding of the treasure. If he had, I knew better.
But, meanwhile, whatever design he had, it was not likely that
Mademoiselle was in danger. Probably, indeed, she was suffering less
discomfort at the moment than she had endured during the last few
hours. If we were destined to destruction by the mutineers, as I had no
doubt, Holgate was biding his time. It might be that he still had some
suspicion that one or more of us knew the secret he sought. So he held
his hand.

Under Legrand's guidance, the boat grounded with a dull, soft, swishing
noise on sand, and in the darkness we effected our landing. That done,
it remained to conceal our craft in case of emergencies, which we
succeeded in doing under a spreading patch of bushes well above the
reach of the tides. Then the question of shelter faced us.

This part of the island appeared, from the trend of the ground, to move
gently upwards among dwarf trees and shrubs, and, plunging almost at
random in the night, we hit upon a knoll at the base of which was a
hollow screened by some bushes. Here we decided to stay till the sun
was up. Legrand helped Lane, who was badly fatigued, and Ellison made
himself useful all round, paying complimentary attentions to the French
maid. As for me, I am not ashamed to say that I had but one thought
just then, and that was to render the Princess comfortable. I found
some dry ferns and piled them up as a couch, so that she was protected
from the hard, unyielding earth, and then I bade her sleep. She had not
spoken since we had entered the boat, and she rendered herself
submissively as a helpless child to my directions. She lay down, and I