As she stepped from the car, Rondah heard a chill, queer laugh. She glanced at the stranger. Was it he? He stood beside the car and was looking at her with a singular expression, half triumph, half intense apprehension. As Rondah, looking at him, began to realize that he had brought her to the island and left Regan outside, the man touched the car. Its sails expanded. It flew away; striking the wall in the air, it fell a mass of cloth and fragments. “It has returned—the wall,” said the man, composedly. “Where is Regan? He is not here!” “He waits outside the wall, I suppose! We were a little late!” “Go after him!” “I cannot go!” Rondah fled toward the sea, only to be stopped by the invisible barrier. She ran aimlessly and helplessly about, sobbing and shrieking until she was worn out. Then she sank upon a bank and looked about her. Tossing her red hair from her face, she struck her gemmed coronet and it fell upon the rocks, where it looked like a piece of brass on the jewel-like surface of the Sun Island. The amazing splendor almost blinded Rondah’s weeping eyes. The cliffs were of garnet and of yellow amber. They rose out of sight in the serene, changeless radiance. The canopy of clouds above the island was one sheen of rainbow hue. The rock surface of the Sun Island was of the dazzling color and radiance of most brilliant polished sea shell. Spots of pink, blue, green and shades of emerald, gold, bronze, carmine and rose, chocolate-brown, dull yellow and purple—all these hues were so mingled as to produce an exquisite harmony. In the deep ravines of the great riven cliffs there were forests of silver-bodied trees, whose leaves seemed metallic. They shone like diamonds and tinkled like glass. The shadow of their foliage was a pinkish hue, and the grass of the valleys was like the white waxen petals of the tuberose. Beds of roses and lilies were in large banks and on mountain sides; there were other jewel-like blooms everywhere. The rivulets of liquid pearl flowed ’neath banks shadowed by silken reeds, which swayed like stray moonlight lost in the fields. In the air was a musical thrill, which made a continual chord of harmony around her. The stranger seemed gone. At least, he was nowhere to be seen. Under the shadow of the magnificent trees Rondah sat to rest, and there was nothing in the whole heavenly sight which could even calm her grief. The island was beautiful, but Regan was not there! The music of air and trees was supremely ethereal, but she was miserable because she could not hear Regan’s voice! “Regan! Regan!” she called. “He laughed—that strange man—he laughed! I am certain! I do not believe he thought he could bring Regan here. I do not believe that Regan ever trusted him. I was so foolish as that!” And along the paths where never woman had trod before, Rondah ran and searched, seeing nothing of the beauty, only searching for Regan.