AFTER supper Bassett and Williams retired to the library. They were surprised and intrigued by the length of Rawson’s absence. He had been gone over two hours and what could have held him on the mainland so long was difficult to imagine unless a new lead had developed. This was Bassett’s idea, also his hope. To have suspicion lifted from Flora would be the first lightening of the grinding distress he had felt since the murder. Williams wondered if he could have come on anything about Joe Tracy; but Bassett shook the suggestion off with a shrug. He could check up on Joe in half an hour; besides, there was nothing to be looked for in that line. His confidence was not assumed, his mind was untroubled by any fears about Joe. That something had turned up which might head the chase in a new direction was so encouraging a thought, that, by contrast to his sensations for the last twenty-four hours, he felt almost cheerful. In the relaxation of the strain he was conscious of fatigue for the first time. He threw himself on the sofa and in a moment had sunk into the deep deathlike sleep of exhaustion. Williams, sitting near the telephone also nodded, his big body sagged together in the chair, his chin embedded in his chest. The group in the living-room, viewed by the uninformed spectator, might have been the usual evening gathering of an informal Gull Island house-party. They had shut the garden door against draughts and with the inland entrance open wide the place was scented with a sharp sea tang and cool with the breath of the ocean. The tide, full-brimming, lay a dark circle about them, no moonlit path or silvered eddies to-night, the channel a solid swath of black between them and the clustering shore lights. They made a deceptively quiet picture, pleasant, agreeable-looking people resting in reposeful attitudes after a day in the open air. Shine was looking at a book of engravings spread on the end of the table. Mrs. Cornell had brought in Miss Pinkney after the business of washing up--Mrs. Cornell found Miss Pinkney’s society so fortifying that she sought it at all hours--and together they made a feint of playing a double solitaire. Anne and Flora sat near by reclining in armchairs, both silent, with the fixed eyes of preoccupation. Stokes was the sole member of the company whose inner unrest broke out in movement. He paced back and forth before the fireplace, quick long strides over the bear rug to the hall door and back again. Once or twice the edge of the rug caught his toe and he kicked it out of his way with a violent angry jerk of his foot.