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of natural shamelessness, as if she was proud of her body and did not mind who knew it or who saw it.
    She opened her eyes. He gave her a spot more brandy, told her to lie still, and went into the cabin where the prisoners were. He looked at Raoul, and knew how terrified Raoul was; but he didn’t speak as he began to untie the knots at his wrists. Raoul’s teeth chattered; he just couldn’t stop himself. Rollison simply loosened the knots, and left them secure and went out without a word.
    One could hate a sadist without imitating his methods.
    Rollison went on deck again. No other craft was in sight.
    He felt happier.
    He poked around, and found the tiny galley, with a built-in refrigerator and a built-in larder, behind the engine-house; and near it were two bunks, for the crew. He opened the larder door, and his eyes brightened; here was food. There was even bread, some croissants which felt fresh, like this morning’s bake, some butter was in the ’fridge – and a tin of ham – everything he needed. He opened the tin, sliced ham, laid a tray, and carried it jauntily down to the saloon, placed it on a table, and looked upon Violette. She seemed almost herself again.
    â€œWe’ll eat first and drink after,” he said. “But I’d better go up and switch the engine off before we start. We’ll drop anchor.” He buttered a croissant, bit a piece off, winked at her, and went hurrying up the stairs.
    He started for the stern and the anchor, heard another engine, looked towards the distant shore, and saw a launch bearing down upon the Maria.
    Standing in the thwarts were two gendarmes.
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Chapter Eight
Violette Explains A Letter
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    One gendarme was fat, the other thin. They were approaching very fast, and into the slight wind, which had carried away the sound of their approach. Rollison stood and watched, his teeth clamped together. There was no doubt that they were bearing down on the Maria. At four hundred yards the fat one put a pair of binoculars to his eyes.
    Rollison moved slowly to the engine-house, and deliberately switched off. Few things had ever cost him more effort; now nothing could stop the men from coming aboard. If he had made a run for it, he might have got ashore before they could catch up with him.
    He’d taken his chance.
    The Maria began to slow down. The launch with the two gendarmes was now only two hundred yards away. The tall policeman turned to the lean one, and said something; the other nodded.
    Was this the vessel they were after?
    The only reassuring thing was the fact that their revolvers stayed in their holsters.
    The fat man bent down and picked up a megaphone. Rollison’s French was good enough to understand nautical terms in spite of the distortion of the great horn.
    â€œHow many people have you on board?”
    â€œTwo, messieurs!” called Rollison, cupping his hands to make the words carry. His heart thumped, but his voice was steady. “Mademoiselle, et moi aussi!”
    â€œWhere is mademoiselle? ”
    Rollison hesitated.
    He couldn’t even begin to guess what this was about; the questions gave him hope that the police would not come aboard – unless they found new reasons for suspicion. Violette in a bikini would not cause a moment’s surprise; nylon flimsies might be a different matter.
    â€œBelow deck!” he called.
    â€œWe wish to see her.”
    â€œI’ll tell her to come.” Rollison turned away.
    His heart was beating with steady, threatening thuds. The police might be looking for Violette. They might be intending to come aboard, just fooling him by pretending that they weren’t in any great hurry.
    He called down the saloon.
    â€œViolette, will you come on deck?”
    â€œA moment,” she answered, so quickly that he guessed that she had heard the shouting. At least she wouldn’t be taken by surprise. The steadiness of her voice was a help, too. If she draped a