white servants were moved into rooms adjoining their
employers; Britt and Saunders transferred their belongings to certain
gorgeous apartments; Miss Pelham went into a Marie Antoinette suite
close by that of the Princess. The native servants retained their
customary quarters, below stairs. It was a peculiar condition that all
of the native servants were men; no women were employed in the great
establishment, nor ever had been.

Far in the night, Genevra, sleepless and depressed, stole into the
hanging garden. Her mind was full of the horrid thing that had happened
to Hollingsworth Chase. He had been nothing to her--he could not have
been anything to her had he escaped the guns of the assassins. And yet
her heart was stunned by the stroke that it had sustained. Wide-eyed and
sick, she made her way to the railing, and, clinging to the vines,
stared for she knew not how long at the dull red glow on the mountain.
The flames were gone, but the last red tinge of their anger still clung
to the spot where the bungalow had stood. Behind her, there were lights
in a dozen rooms of the chateau. She knew that she was not the only
sleepless one. Others were lying wide awake and tense, but for reasons
scarcely akin to hers; they were appalled, not heartsick.

The night was still and ominously dark. She had never known a night
since she came to Japat when the birds and insects were so mute. A
sombre, supernatural calm hung over the island like a pall. Far off,
over the black sea, pulsed the fitful glow of an occasional gleam of
lightning, faint with the distance which it traversed. There was no
moon; the stars were gone; the sky was inky and the air somnolent. The
smell of smoke hung about her. She could not help wondering if his fine,
strong body was lying up there, burnt to a crisp. It was far past
midnight; she was alone in the garden. Sixty feet below her was the
ground; above, the black dome of heaven.

She was not to know till long afterward that one of her faithful
Thorberg men stood guard in the passage leading up from the garden,
armed and willing to die. One or the other slept in front of her door
through all those nights on the island.

Something hot trickled down her cheeks from the wide, pitying eyes that
stared so hard. She was wondering now if he had a mother--sisters. How
their hearts would be wrenched by this! A mute prayer that he might have
died in the storm of bullets before the fire swept over him struggled
ag