"Selim, you've been listening to gossip. It's a frightful habit to get into. Put cotton in your ears. But if I were to take you, what would become of little Neenah?" "Oh, Neenah?" said Selim easily. "If she would be a trouble to you, excellency, I can sell her to a man I know." Chase looked blackly at the eager Arab, who quailed. "You miserable dog!" Selim gasped. "Excellency!" "Don't you love her?" "Yes, yes, sahib--yes! But if she would be a trouble to you--no!" protested the Arab anxiously. Chase laughed as he came to appreciate the sacrifice his servant would make for him. "I'll take you with me, Selim, wherever I go--and if I go--but, my lad, we'll take Neenah along, too, to save trouble. She's not for sale, my good Selim." The husband of Neenah radiated joy. "Then she may yet be the slave of the most glorious Princess! Allah is great! The most glorious one has asked her if she will not come with her----" "Selim," commanded the master ominously, "don't repeat the gossip you pick up when I'm not around." CHAPTER XXXII THE TWO WORLDS Two days and nights crept slowly into the past, and now the white people of the château had come to the eve of their last day's stay on the island of Japat: the probationary period would expire with the sun on the following day, the anniversary of the death of Taswell Skaggs. The six months set aside by the testator as sufficient for all the requirements of Cupid were to come to an inglorious end at seven o'clock on March 29th. According to the will, if Agnes Ruthven and Robert Browne were not married to each other before the close of that day all of their rights in the estate were lost to them. To-morrow would be the last day of residence required, but, alack! Was it to be the last that they were to spend in the world-forsaken land? As they sat and stared gloomily at the spotless sea there was not a single optimist among them who felt that the end was near. Not a few were convincing themselves that their last days literally would be spent on the island. No later than that morning a steamer--a small Dutch freighter--had come to a stop off the harbour. But it turned tail and fled within an hour. No one came ashore; the malevolent tug went out and turned back the landing party which was ready to leave the ship's side. The watchers in the château knew what it was that the tug's captain shouted through his trumpet at a safe distance from the steamer. Through their glasses they saw the boat's crew scramble back to the deck of the freighter; the action told the story plainer than words. The black and yellow flags at the end of the company's pier lent colour to a grewsome story! The hopeless look deepened in the eyes of the watchers. They saw the steamer move out to sea and then scuttle away as if pursued by demons.