"Very well," agreed von Giespert. "Pick four men who can best be spared. How is the glass?" "Steady, Herr Kapitan." "I suppose there is a possibility of the numskulls missing the island entirely? If so, we shall lose a valuable boat." "I can give them the compass course. It is usually a favourable wind both ways," said Strauss reassuringly. "All being well, they ought to be back in a couple of days." "Send them," rejoined von Giespert curtly; then in an undertone he added: "It was a happy thought when I laid in that stock of Pilsener at Batavia, Herr Strauss. Shall we split a bottle now?" At daybreak the whaler set off on its voyage to Nua Leha. Barely were the boat's sails out of sight when one of the Huns who had been employed ashore came off with the news that he had discovered an ample supply of water. Von Giespert showed no signs of thankfulness at the intelligence. Instead, he cursed the man for not finding the spring earlier, and upbraided Strauss for sending away the whaler on an unnecessary errand. For the greater part of the day the sweeping-operations were resumed, the men working sullenly and taking advantage of every opportunity to skulk. About three in the afternoon one of the grapnels fouled something, and a diver descended to examine and report upon the nature of the obstruction. He came to the surface with the information that the grapnel had caught in the fluke of a large stockless anchor to which was shackled a heavy studded chain. He had traced the latter for a distance of ten metres, at which point it had sunk deeply into the ooze. This was the one promising incident of the fortnight's operations. Von Giespert, shaking off his lethargy, showed tremendous interest in the find. "They would, of course, have anchored the prize before they scuttled her, Strauss," he observed, "or she might have drifted into very shoal water. Tell that fool of a diver to go down again. What's the use of half doing a job? If he takes a crowbar with him he can trace the whole length of the cable, even if it is under mud." While the diver was engaged upon his task von Giespert departed from his usual routine by getting out of his hammock-chair and going to the rail, from whence he could watch the operations. When, after an interval of forty minutes, the man reappeared, von Giespert hailed a boat to fetch him off. Into this he jumped, not waiting until it was alongside the accommodation-ladder, and ordered the rowers to pull their hardest. The report was a most disappointing one. The diver had succeeded in finding the free end of the cable. There were only four links buried in the mud. In order to confirm his statement he had bent a rope to the last link and had brought the line up with him.