Sounding with the boathook Peter proceeded warily. At frequent intervals he was waist-deep in water. Impeded by the drag of the life-line, half suffocated by the salt-laden spray, and constantly slipping on the kelp-covered rocks, he held on his way, wondering how the others fared, until he gained the dry sand. The lascars had risen nobly to the occasion. Their solicitude towards their disabled officer was so great that Preston felt very little discomfort. Uncomplainingly they had endured torments from the sharp rocks, that had cut their light footwear almost to ribbons. Olive Baird had made light of her part of the business, although both she and Mahmed had their work cut out to half drag, half carry the portly figure entrusted to their care. Mrs. Shallop seemed utterly indifferent to the danger and inconvenience of the passage ashore. Her chief anxiety, expressed in peevish accents, was regarding the loss of her "valuable" diamond, which might either be in the boat or else washed through the gaping seams into the trackless waste of sand. With feelings of thankfulness Peter marshalled his flock under the lee of the cliffs. A hasty examination by means of the lantern resulted in the discovery that the beach was well above high-water mark, so that there was no necessity to undertake the hazardous task of scaling the cliffs in the darkness. "Where are we, do you think, Peter?" asked Olive. She had dropped the "Mister" quite naturally, since Mostyn had declared his intention of seeing her home. "Somewhere in Madagascar," replied Peter. "Where, exactly, I have no idea. We'll probably find out from the first natives we come across." "Are they savages?" "Hardly. They used to be half civilized only a few years ago, I believe," replied Peter. "Thanks to the beneficent efforts of the French Government, when Madagascar became a dependency of France, they are now orderly and well conducted. Excuse me, Miss Baird, but there are one or two things I have to see to." Calling to the two lascars, and bidding Mahmed stay with the rest of the party, Peter took the lantern and walked to the water's edge. The tide was fast receding, and most of the ledge was above the water. Satisfied on this score Mostyn made his way back to the boat, the lascars following. Apparently the stranding had occurred at the top of high water, and the wrecked craft was now perched upon a jagged ledge of coral. She had not altered her position, except for lying well over on her port bilge keel. In a few minutes the boat was stripped of every piece of movable gear. Twice the salvage party returned to the boat, until nothing was left but the bare hull.