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‘I think you’re both behaving like a pair of idiots.’

Lombard looked at her.

‘What’s this?’

Vera said:

‘You’ve forgotten the nursery rhyme. Don’t you see there’s a clue there?’

She recited in a meaning voice:

‘Four little soldier boys going out to sea;

A red herring swallowed one and then there were Three.’

She went on:

‘A red herring—that’s the vital clue. Armstrong’s not dead… He took away the china soldier to make you think he was. You may say what you like—Armstrong’s on the island still. His disappearance is just a red herring across the track…’

Lombard sat down again.

He said:

‘You know, you may be right.’

Blore said:

‘Yes, but if so, where is he? We’ve searched the place.

Outside and inside.’

Vera said scornfully:

‘We all searched for the revolver, didn’t we, and couldn’t find it? But it was somewhere all the time!’

Lombard murmured:

‘There’s a slight difference in size, my dear, between a man and a revolver.’

Vera said:

‘I don’t care—I’m sure I’m right.’

Blore murmured:

‘Rather giving himself away, wasn’t it? Actually mentioning a red herring in the verse. He could have written it up a bit different.’

Vera cried:

‘But don’t you see, he’s mad? It’s all mad! The whole thing of going by the rhyme is mad! Dressing up the judge, killing Rogers when he was chopping sticks—drugging Mrs Rogers so that she overslept herself—arranging for a bumble bee when Miss Brent died! It’s like some horrible child playing a game. It’s all got to fit in.’

Blore said:

‘Yes, you’re right.’ He thought a minute. ‘At any rate there’s no zoo on the island. He’ll have a bit of trouble getting over that.’

Vera cried:

‘Don’t you see? We’re the Zoo… Last night, we were hardly human any more. We’re the Zoo…’

II

They spent the morning on the cliffs, taking it in turns to flash a mirror at the mainland.

There were no signs that any one saw them. No answering signals. The day was fine, with a slight haze. Below, the sea heaved in a gigantic swell. There were no boats out.

They had made another abortive search of the island. There was no trace of the missing physician.

Vera looked up at the house from where they were standing.

She said, her breath coming with a slight catch in it:

‘One feels safer here, out in the open… Don’t let’s go back into the house again.’

Lombard said:

‘Not a bad idea. We’re pretty safe here, no one can get at us without our seeing him a long time beforehand.’

Vera said:

‘We’ll stay here.’

Blore said:

‘Have to pass the night somewhere. We’ll have to go back to the house then.’

Vera shuddered.

‘I can’t bear it. I can’t go through another night!’

Philip said:

‘You’ll be safe enough—locked in your room.’

Vera murmured: ‘I suppose so.’

She stretched out her hands, murmuring:

‘It’s lovely—to feel the sun again…’

She thought:

‘How odd… I’m almost happy. And yet I suppose I’m actually in danger… Somehow—now—nothing seems to matter… not in daylight… I feel full of power—I feel that I can’t die…’

Blore was looking at his wristwatch. He said:

‘It’s two o’clock. What about lunch?’

Vera said obstinately: