As the moving-picture actors, escorted by the ensign, followed their trunks to the launch, Billy looked after them with a feeling of great loneliness. He was aware that from the palace his carriage had been followed; that drawn in a cordon around the hotel negro policemen covertly observed him. That President Ham still hoped to recover his lost prestige and his lost money was only too evident.
It was just five minutes to eight.
Billy ran to his room, and with his suitcase in his hand slipped down the back stairs and into the garden. Cautiously he made his way to the gate in the wall, and in the street outside found Claire awaiting him.
With a cry of relief she clasped his arm.
"You are safe!" she cried. "I was so frightened for you. That President Ham, he is a beast, an ogre!" Her voice sank to a whisper. "And for myself also I have been frightened. The police, they are at each corner. They watch the hotel. They watch me! Why? What do they want?"
"They want something of mine," said Billy. "But I can't tell you what it is until I'm sure it is mine. Is the boat at the wharf?"
"All is arranged," Claire assured him. "The boatmen are our friends; they will take us safely to the steamer."
With a sigh of relief Billy lifted her valise and his own, but he did not move forward.
Anxiously Claire pulled at his sleeve.
"Come!" she begged. "For what it is that you wait?"