On the terrace outside Philip Lombard said:

«About this motor boat —»

Blore looked at him. Blore nodded his head. He said:

«I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Lombard. I’ve asked myself the same question. Motor boat ought to have been here nigh on two hours ago. It hasn’t come? Why?»

«Found the answer?» asked Lombard.

«It’s not an accident – that’s what I say. It’s part and parcel of the whole business. It’s all bound up together.»

Philip Lombard said: «It won’t come, you think?»

A voice spoke behind him – a testy impatient voice.

«The motor boat’s not coming,» he said.

Blore turned his square shoulder slightly and viewed the last speaker thoughtfully.

«You think not too, General?»

General Macarthur said sharply:

«Of course it won’t come. We’re counting on the motor boat to take us off the island. That’s the meaning of the whole business. We’re not going to leave the island… None of us will ever leave… Il’s the end, you see – the end of everything…»

He hesitated, then he said in a low strange voice:

«That’s peace – real peace. To come to the end – not to have to go on… Yes, peace…»

He turned abruptly and walked away. Along the terrace, then down the slope towards the sea – obliquely – to the end of the island where loose rocks went out into the water. He walked a little unsteadily, like a man who was only half awake.

Blore said: «There goes another one who’s balmy! Looks as though it’ll end with the whole lot going that way.»

Philip Lombard said: «I don’t fancy you will, Blore.»

The ex-Inspector laughed.

«It would take a lot to send me off my head.» He added drily: «And I don’t think you’ll be going that way either, Mr. Lombard.»

Philip Lombard said: «I feel quite sane at the minute, thank you.»