One boat is close
inshore. I think, from the uniforms, they are English sahibs, such as I
have seen at Garden Reach. The Dyaks have all gone."

Nevertheless Jenks waited. There was nothing to gain by being too
precipitate. A false step now might undo the achievements of many
weeks.

Mir Jan was dancing about beneath in a state of wild excitement.

"They have seen the Dyaks running to their sampans, sahib," he yelled,
"and the second boat is being pulled in that direction. Yet another has
just left the ship."

A translation made Iris excited, eager to go down and see these
wonders.

"Better wait here, dearest," he said. "The enemy may be driven back in
this direction, and I cannot expose you to further risk. The sailors
will soon land, and you can then descend in perfect safety."

The boom of a cannon came from the sea. Instinctively the girl ducked
for safety, though her companion smiled at her fears, for the shell
would have long preceded the report, had it traveled their way.

"One of the remaining sampans has got under way," he explained, "and
the warship is firing at her."

Two more guns were fired. The man-o'-war evidently meant business.

"Poor wretches!" murmured Iris. "Cannot the survivors be allowed to
escape?"

"Well, we are unable to interfere. Those caught on the island will
probably be taken to the mainland and hanged for their crimes, so the
manner of their end is not of much consequence."

To the girl's manifest relief there was no more firing, and Mir Jan
announced that a number of sailors were actually on shore. Then her
thoughts turned to a matter of concern to the feminine mind even in the
gravest moments of existence. She laved her face with water and sought
her discarded skirt!

Soon the steady tramp of boot-clad feet advancing at the double was
heard on the shingle, and an officer's voice, speaking the crude
Hindustani of the engine-room and forecastle, shouted to Mir Jan--

"Hi, you black fellow! Are there any white people here?"

Jenks sang out--

"Yes, two of us! Perched on the rock over your heads. We are coming
down."

He cast loose the rope-ladder. Iris was limp and trembling.

"Steady, sweetheart," he whispered. "Don't forget the slip between the
cup and the lip. Hold tight! But have no fear! I will be just beneath."

It was well he took this precaution. She was now so unnerved that an
unguarded movement might have led to an accident. But the knowledge
that her lover