I've something that'll keep me going--revenge! I'll show 'em, once I'm off this place--I will so!" "Look here, Chatfield," said Vickers.

"Do you know where this place is?
What is it?
Is it on the mainland, or is it an island, or where are we?
It's all very well talking about getting off, but when and how are we to get off?
Why don't you be sensible and tell us what you know ?" The estate agent arose slowly and ponderously, drawing his shawl about him.

He looked out seawards.

In that black waste the steady beat of the yacht's propellers could be clearly heard, but not a gleam of light came from her, and it was impossible to decide in which direction she was going.

And Chatfield suddenly shook his fist at the throbbing sound which came in regular pulsations through the night.
"Never mind!" he said sneeringly.