Frank stood still.
“Retribution!” he muttered. “Food for fishes! It is the hand of outraged justice, and it has fallen at last!”
For one brief moment he saw the dark face tossed to the top of a wave; then it disappeared. The launch plowed on through the water.
“The last of Santenel!” was Frank’s hoarse exclamation.
In spite of his fears concerning Inza, he stood staring at the spot where the man’s head had vanished, though the darkness hid everything in that direction now.
Then the memory of Inza dragged at his heart-strings and pulled him away from the launch’s side.
“Inza! Inza!” he called again and again.
There was no response. The sweat came out on his face and his limbs trembled.
“Heavens! Can it be possible the man spoke true?”
He groped his way into the vessel in search of a lamp. Then, remembering that the launch was steaming out toward the bay, he stopped this hunt, made his way to the tiny engine, slowed it down and turned the boat about with a whirl of the wheel.