Two more guns were fired. The man-o'-war evidently meant business.
"Poor wretches!" murmured Iris. "Cannot the survivors be allowed to escape?"
"Well, we are unable to interfere. Those caught on the island will probably be taken to the mainland and hanged for their crimes, so the manner of their end is not of much consequence."
To the girl's manifest relief there was no more firing, and Mir Jan announced that a number of sailors were actually on shore. Then her thoughts turned to a matter of concern to the feminine mind even in the gravest moments of existence. She laved her face with water and sought her discarded skirt!
Soon the steady tramp of boot-clad feet advancing at the double was heard on the shingle, and an officer's voice, speaking the crude Hindustani of the engine-room and forecastle, shouted to Mir Jan—
"Hi, you black fellow! Are there any white people here?"
Jenks sang out—
"Yes, two of us! Perched on the rock over your heads. We are coming down."
He cast loose the rope-ladder. Iris was limp and trembling.
"Steady, sweetheart," he whispered. "Don't forget the slip between the cup and the lip. Hold tight! But have no fear! I will be just beneath."