Davis and Morton came up from below. They headed for the shore. The crew-cuts trailed off to the land with most of the visitors. Only Deirdre and Terry remained on the yacht, with a mere short-wave operator from the island.
"We're going to have a fancy lunch, with champagne and speeches," the operator said hopefully. "You'll come?"
"Naturally!" said Terry. "But first we're going swimming. We haven't had a chance to be overboard since the last time we were here."
"We'll be back in time for lunch," Deirdre assured the operator, "but swimming here is so wonderful! We've been talking about it for days!"
She went below to change. The operator shrugged. After a further attempt to interest Terry in the celebration of an astronomical first, he went ashore. Terry went with him to get the outboard motorboat he and Deirdre had used before. He was already wearing swimming trunks.
A little later the small boat putt-putted away from the Esperance upon the glassy-rippled waters of the lagoon.
There was a very great tranquillity everywhere. The booming roar of the surf came from unseen rollers on the reef outside. Seabirds squawked. Palms along the edge of the lagoon waved their fronds very, very gently.
"How far will you go before we swim?" asked Deirdre. "All the lagoon's perfect. One place is as good as another."
He cut off the motor.
"Hmmm. There's a deep place yonder," he observed. "That's where I went with the aqualung and speared the freak fish. Stay away from it."