"A ship's officer, an Englishman probably, murdered by head-hunting Dyak pirates!" If they came once they would come again.
Five hundred yards away Iris Deane was sleeping.

He ought not to have left her alone.

And then, with the devilish ingenuity of coincidence, a revolver shot awoke the echoes, and sent all manner of wildfowl hurtling through the trees with clamorous outcry.
Panting and wild-eyed, Jenks was at the girl's side in an inconceivably short space of time.

She was not beneath the shelter of the grove, but on the sands, gazing, pallid in cheek and lip, at the group of rocks on the edge of the lagoon.
"What is the matter ?" he gasped.
"Oh, I don't know," she wailed brokenly.

"I had a dream, such a horrible dream.