a tall column of smoke
which should catch her lover's eyes and tell him that she was waiting
for him. But day after day the calm sea lay shining, vacant. Evening
after evening the Queen came sadly home again, a cold fear in her
heart, bitter disappointment choking her. Then Kalliope would do her
best for her mistress, repeating over and over her comforting phrases.

"He will come once more. Sure thing. Damned sure."

CHAPTER XXV

The strain on the nerves of the party in the palace became more and
more severe. During the second week in October it almost reached the
breaking point. For four days the sirocco blew across the island. The
sky was grey and seemed to press down on sea and land, heavy,
unbroken, intolerably near. The wind blew strongly, but with none of
the fresh boisterous fierceness of a northern gale. There was a sullen
malignity about its force. Out at sea grey-topped waves wrangled and
strove together confusedly. They broke in a welter of soiled foam
across the reef which lay opposite the mouth of the bay. Within the
harbour little waves, like jagged steel blades, rose, hissed at each
other spitefully, and perpetually stabbed at the rocky shore.

The close, suffocating heat oppressed men and beasts. The islanders
retreated into their cottages and lay, patiently enduring, till the
vile wind should pass away. Cattle cowered for shelter under the lee
of walls or among the bent, swaying trees. Donovan sat alone in his
room in the palace. He sweated continuously though he wore little
clothing. He was the victim of many kinds of physical uneasiness,
pains which would not quite declare themselves, restless fidgetings
of his limbs, vague depression of spirit. Konrad Karl and Madame
quarrelled openly and bitterly. His revilings stung her. Her own
ill-temper left her raw. She fled to her room and locked herself into
it. The King, perversely persistent, went after her. He could be heard
scolding her through the closed door at one moment, begging
pathetically for admittance at another. Gorman wandered restlessly
from room to room. He opened windows, panting for air, and closed them
with a curse when the hot blast of the sirocco smote him in the face.
Smith, alone of all the party, preserved his self-control. The sweat
trickled down his face; but he was alert, attentive, busy, as if the
sun shone and the breeze blew fresh across sparkling water.

The Queen found the palace intolerable, worse than the wind o