If Lady Deppingham expected a royal welcome from the inhabitants of
Japat, she was soon to discover her error. Not only was the pictured
scene of welcome missing on the afternoon of her arrival, but an
overpowering air of antipathy smote her in the face as she stepped from
the lighter--conquest in her smile of conciliation. The attitude of the
brown-faced Mohammedans who looked coldly upon the fair visitor was far
from amiable. They did not fall down and bob their heads; they did not
even incline them in response to her overtures. What was more trying,
they glared at the newcomers in a most expressive manner. Lady
Deppingham's chin was interrupted in its tilt of defiance by the shudder
of alarm which raced through her slender figure. She glanced from right
to left down the lines of swarthy islanders, and saw nothing in their
faces but surly, bitter unfriendliness. They stood stolidly, stonily at
a distance, white-robed lines of resentment personified.

Not a hand was lifted in assistance to the bewildered visitors; not a
word, not a smile of encouragement escaped the lips of the silent
throng.

Lady Agnes looked about eagerly in search of a white man's face, but
there was none to be seen except in her own party. A moment of panic
came to her as she stood there on the pier, almost alone, while Saunders
and her husband were engaged in the effort to secure help with the
boxes. Behind her lay the friendly ocean; ahead the gorgeous landscape,
smiling down upon her with the green glow of poison in its sunny face,
dark treachery in its heart. On the instant she realised that these
people were her enemies, and that they were the real masters of the
island, after all. She found herself wondering whether they meant to
settle the question of ownership then and there, before she could so