The three men started on their tour of the island.

It proved unexpectedly simple. On the northwest side, towards the coast, the cliffs fell sheer to the sea below, their surface unbroken. On the rest of the island there were no trees and very little cover. The three men worked carefully and methodically, beating up and down from the highest point to the water’s edge, narrowly scanning the least irregularity in the rock which might point to the entrance to a cave. But there were no caves.

They came at last, skirting the water’s edge, to where General Macarthur sat looking out to sea. It was very peaceful here with the lap of the waves breaking over the rocks. The old man sat very upright, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

He paid no attention to the approach of the searchers. His oblivion of them made one at least faintly uncomfortable.

Blore thought to himself: ‘«Tisn’t natural – looks as though he’d gone into a trance or something.»

He cleared his throat and said in a would-be conversational tone:

«Nice peaceful spot you’ve found for yourself, sir.»

The General frowned. He cast a quick look over his shoulder. He said:

«There is so little time – so little time. I really must insist that no one disturbs me.»

Blore said genially: «We won’t disturb you. We’re just making a tour of the island, so to speak. Just wondered, you know, if some one might be hiding on it.»

The General frowned and said:

«You don’t understand – you don’t understand at all. Please go away.»

Blore retreated. He said, as he joined the other two:

«He’s crazy… It’s no good talking to him.»

Lombard asked with some curiosity: «What did he say?»

Blore shrugged his shoulders.

«Something about there being no time and that he didn’t want to be disturbed.»

Dr. Armstrong frowned. He murmured:

«I wonder now…»