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Rh was absolutely no sound; then she heard Garth draw in his breath with a little gasp, but that was all. The searchlight wheeled back to her for a moment, shifted to the door, then vanished. Joan waited until the tramp of Schmidt's heavy boots had died from the door before she dared even whisper.

"What have they done? Garth! Are you hurt?"

"No," he said.

They were silent again, for they both knew that they were waiting for something. For what? Then it came. The calm, faithful beam of the Light that touched the horizon was suddenly extinguished, with a little struggling flicker. Silence. Then the protesting sputter of a muffled engine, as a motor-boat left the landing.