"Haze's cleared," he reported; "but I can't see the sea-plane."
The anchorage was now clearly visible from the deck, and, as the mast-head man had stated, there was not a sign of the Cormorant.
"Either she's been spirited away," thought Villiers, "or else we've been victims of an hallucination."
It was a tricky passage into the lagoon, for a fairly heavy ground-swell, hardly perceptible off the island, made the Titania evince a tendency to yaw just at the critical moment. Scraping a ledge of coral by a none-too-wide margin, she gained the sheltered lagoon, rounded-to, and dropped anchor.
Before the canvas was lowered and stowed a boat was observed putting off from the Zug, but Claverhouse was not one of its occupants. Seated in the stern-sheets in a white drill uniform was von Giespert.
"Good-day, Sir Hugh," hailed the German, when the boat was within twenty yards of the yacht. "Your visit surprises me. I hope you are aware that the time-limit you imposed is not yet half expired?"
"I am perfectly aware of that, Herr von Giespert," replied Harborough. "We are here on a very different business. I understand that one of my sea-planes is here."
"Sea-planes?" repeated von Giespert, with well simulated astonishment. "I do not understand."
"Let me enlighten you," said Harborough, and proceeded to outline his version of what had taken place.
"You are obviously mistaken," persisted the owner of the Zug. "Look where you will there is no seaplane of any description here. Perhaps you are misled by taking that tent for the missing machine. And as regards your aviator, you may accept my assurance that it would be a pleasure to me to be able to restore him to you. Unfortunately, since he is not here, that is impossible."