A Hero for Leanda

he sleeps—but I don’t see how I could contact him safely. It’s bound to be a bit of a shock for him, our turning up—he might easily give the show away before he realized what it was all about. Anyway, with all those servants and a police sergeant sleeping in the same bungalow —and perhaps a dog around...” Conway shook his head doubtfully.
    “Well, we’ve got to do something, Mike, now we’re here. This could be our only chance.”
    “It’s no good doing anything rash,” Conway said. “One false step, and Baker will have our passports checked—and that will be that.... Look, if Kastella moons about the beach as much as Franklin says he does, perhaps we’ll have a chance to intercept him.”
    “But we’re never left alone in the daytime—and the Franklins are such good hosts I don’t suppose we will be.... Besides, we’ve only got tomorrow.”
    “We can always angle for another invitation,” Conway said. “It’s not going to help anyone if we get jailed.”
    “It’s maddening! So near and yet so far!” Leanda gazed out over the starlit beach. “Everything’s so quiet and still now. If only we could get one word to him, we could fix up a night meeting out there. The thing could be arranged in ten seconds.”
    “Well, we’ll watch for a chance,” Conway said. “We can’t do more than that.”

    Next morning Franklin suggested they should all go out to the reef in his glass-bottomed boat and have a look at the coral. Conway, who had been hoping for an opportunity to inspect the lagoon at close quarters, declared it a splendid idea and quickly helped him haul the boat down the beach. It was a perfect day for the trip. The water was milk-warm and smooth as silk, with only an occasional tiny wavelet curling lazily over at the very edge. The floor of the lagoon, Conway noticed, was sandy, with patches of short dark eel grass but no sign of any dangerous coral growths. The depth of water, Franklin told him, was never less than about eight feet. Looking ahead, he could see a gap in the reef a little way to the north, with the usual breakers between it and the shore. But here, opposite the bungalow, the barrier gave complete protection. It would be the perfect place to pick Kastella up, Conway thought —if the opportunity ever came!
    They spent a fascinating hour pottering about the reef, observing through the plate glass the lumps of living coral, like enormous delicately tinted brains; and black, foot-long sea cucumbers, and purple sea urchins, and brilliantly hued fish. Then Franklin rowed them back to the beach, and they all went in for a swim. Afterward they lay on rugs in a patch of shade under a palm, and Wendy Franklin began to tell them about an alarming experience one of the “boys” had had with a barracuda the previous year.
    Suddenly Franklin pointed along the beach. “There’s the emperor,” he said, “if you’re interested. Taking up his usual pitch.”
    Leanda turned her head sharply. Conway ’s gaze swiveled round more slowly. A very large man in a white straw hat and a pair of white shorts was setting up a deck chair about seventy yards away. At that distance they could see nothing of his face. When he had placed the chair to his satisfaction he took some papers from a brief case and sat down with his back to the bathing party.
    Leanda said, a little breathlessly, “Doesn’t he ever try to talk to you?”
    “No, he keeps very much to himself.”
    “What’s happened to his bodyguard?”
    “Oh, Bates doesn’t come down unless he’s told to. The master mustn’t be disturbed, you know!”
    Conway said, “He’s a much bigger man than the original emperor.”
    “Enormous fellow, isn’t he. It’s odd—I always thought the people of Spyros were an undersized lot.”
    Leanda was still gazing along the beach. Wendy Franklin said, “Well, I don’t know about you people, but I’m thirsty.... Shall we go in?”
    “Good idea,” Franklin said. “It’s about time for a snorter.”
    They picked up their belongings and set off up the path that wound through the trees to the house. Leanda was talking gaily to Wendy. Suddenly, when they’d almost reached the veranda, she stopped short. “Oh, damn, I’ve left my sunglasses.... You go on, I shan’t be a moment .“
    “I’ll get them... Franklin began—but Leanda was already halfway down the path, and running.
    “You’d better go, Tom,” Wendy said. “She may not be able to find them.”
    “She’ll