you? Your ship has come
and gone and you are still here--with me. You almost wished for this."

"No. I almost wished that it would _not_ come. There is a distinction,"
she said bitterly. "It has come and it has disappointed all of us--not
one alone."

"Do you remember what it was that Saunders said about having lived only
a week, all told? The rest was nothing."

"Yes--but you have seen that Saunders still covets life in a garden at
Hammersmith Bridge. I am no less human than Mr. Saunders."

All day long the islanders rejoiced. Their shouts could be plainly heard
by the besieged; their rifles cracked sarcastic greetings from the
forest; bullets whistled gay accompaniments to the ceaseless song:
"Allah is great! Allah is good!"

No man in the despised house of Taswell Skaggs slept that night. The
guard was doubled at all points open to attack. It was well that the
precaution was taken, for the islanders, believing that the enemy's
force had been largely reduced by the polluted water, made a vicious
assault on the lower gates. There was a fierce exchange of shots and the
attackers drew away, amazed, stunned by the discovery that the
beleaguered band was as strong and as determined as ever.

At two in the morning, Deppingham, Browne and Chase came up from the
walls for coffee and an hour's rest.

"Chase, if you don't get your blooming cruiser here before long, we'll
be as little worth the saving as old man Skaggs, up there in his
open-work grave," Deppingham was saying as he threw himself wearily into
a chair in the breakfast room. They were wet and cold. They had heard
Rasula's minions shouting derisively all night long: "Where is the
warship? Where is the warship?"

"It will come. I am positive," said Chase, insistent in spite of his
dejection. They drank their coffee in silence. He knew that the
others--including the native who served them--were regarding him with
the pity that one extends to the vain-glorious braggart who goes down
with flying colours.

He went out upon the west gallery and paced its windswept length for
half an hour or more. Then, utterly fagged, he threw himself into an
unexposed chair and stared through tired eyes into the inscrutable night
that hid the sea from view. The faithless, moaning, jeering sea!

When he aroused himself with a start, the grey, drizzly dawn was upon
him. He had slept. His limbs were stiff and sore; his face was drenched
by the fine rain that had searched him out