Mascola started from his chair, but there was a look in Bandrist's eyes which made him drop back. A sneering smile played about the Italian's lips but he
said nothing. If Bandrist was a fool about a woman, what was that to him? He could not afford to quarrel with the islander. Not yet.
"How did Peters know they were coming here?" he asked after a moment.
"He didn't," Bandrist answered shortly. "But it is only natural that they should come here. Their boats have been fishing along the north shore of the island. Your men failed to drive them off."
Mascola flushed.
"My men did drive them off," he contradicted hotly. "Only a few minutes ago they returned with other boats. I will drive those off too."
Bandrist smiled insultingly.
"Why don't you do it?" he challenged. "To-night is a time I must have something more than talk. I want you to go down and join your fleet at once, keep a close watch and if the speed-boat does not arrive within a half-hour, let me know immediately."
Mascola made no move to obey.
"Gonzolez is laying in at the goose-neck," he said. "I sent Rossi round to join him. The Fuor d'Italia lies in the little cove beyond."