fools. Half scared, half
fascinated and admiring, Philip responded; Christian stayed sullen and
silent.

CHAPTER XIII

At its nearest lay the Isle Sinister under noon. The Adventurer sighed
for the land as, cold and uneasy, he couched for needful sleep. Philip
lay stretched beside him, Christian, according to his own preference,
taking the first watch. Out of new bravado, Philip passed on to Christian
a muttered question: Could he now carry them in and land them on the very
Isle?

Like a bolt came Christian's answer: 'Drowned and damned both shall you
be before I will.'

Philip rose up, startled by the answer and the unexpected intimacy it
acknowledged. But the voice had been of level quiet, and the Alien's face
showed no anger. The Adventurer watched with a sardonic smile; and
Philip, forcing a show of unconcern that he did not feel, muttered a word
of madness and dropped back. For a while resurgent terrors thwarted
sleep; but the quiet breathing of his neighbour, the quiet outlook of
the Alien, told on his shaken nerves, and slumber overtook him. Christian
stayed waking alone.

Ah! the relief. He stood up to take free, deep breath, and stretched his
great limbs. Long, intently, with shaded eyes, he stared towards the Isle
Sinister. Ah! nothing, and well nothing. Could she trust that he
meditated no trespass? that he would allow none? Could she deem that he
offered no insane resentment against her severity? A sea-gull flapped
close past his head, but was mute.

He turned and looked down on the sleepers, and his face, illegible for
many a day, showed bitter resentment and scorn. Shamefully had he been
beguiled, trapped, bound by a promise; and wanton goading had not lacked,
all but intolerable. Fools! their lives were in his hand; and he was
awake. Awake, as for months he had not been; his pulses were leaping to
full heart-beats, there was stir in his brain; and therewith, dislike and
contempt exciting, the keen human passion of hate lay torpid no longer;
it moved, it threatened to run riot.

Who dare claim loyal service from him? Philip! One boat had been familiar
with these reefs: somewhere in the past murder rested unavenged. Philip!

In the deep water that the boat shadowed a darkness slid, catching his
eye. He peered, but it was gone. Before, and not once only, had an
impression seized him, by deliberate sight not verified, that a sinister
attendance lurked below. Now unconstrained he could watch.