The sun was low in the western sky, tinting the rippling waters with golden light. The scene was a peaceful one, and it did not seem possible that an awesome and appalling tragedy had taken place on that quiet little island that day.
Despite their determination, the boys were stunned and at a loss to know what was to be done. They entered the boat and rowed off to the yacht.
It was plain no one had visited the White Wings while they were away, for nothing on board was molested.
Hans was hungry, but he was the only one of them all who seemed to have any appetite. They did not talk much, but all were thinking, and the Dutch boy cried softly over the food he ate.
Little had they dreamed when they started out on the cruise that anything so terrible could happen and that they would be so completely dazed and bewildered. Their hearts were full of sorrow, but on their faces were looks of resolution that told they did not mean to be driven away till they had fulfilled their oath.
The sun went down redly in the west and tinted twilight crept over the water. In the woods on shore darkness gathered swiftly. They stared away toward those woods, as if watching for the appearance of their missing friend.
All at once Jack caught hold of Hodge, hissing:
"Look there!"
"Where?"