Only a half mile wide and long, the lagoon was actually a mangrove swamp. Jutting from the water were a couple dozen "floating islands": mushroom caps of earth sitting atop buttresses of exposed, gnarled mangrove roots. Ranging in size from standing-room-only to a double garage, all were covered in thick weeds, and most supported miniature forests of scrub trees and bushes. At the southern end of the swamp was a narrow beach, and beyond that a copse of coconut palms. It was eerily quiet, the air dead still.

"Now, this isn't something you see every day," Remi murmured.

"Any sign of the Mad Hatter or Alice?"

"No, knock wood."

"Let's get moving. Daylight's burning."

The made their way through the floating islands, dropped anchor just off the beach, and waded ashore.

"How many are we going to need?" Remi asked. With one hand she deftly curled her auburn hair off her neck and snapped a rubber band around it, making a neat topknot.

Sam smiled. "It's like magic, how you do that."

"We are a wondrous species," Remi agreed with a smile and wrung the water from her shirttails. "So, how many?"

"Six. No, five."

"And you're sure we couldn't get what we need in Stone Town and sneak back here?"

"You want to risk it? Something tells me that gunboat captain would be only too happy to arrest us. If he thinks we were lying to him . . ."

"True. Okay, Gilligan, let's make your raft."

THEY HAD NO TROUBLE finding plenty of downed trees but a harder time finding ones of a manageable size. Sam identified five candidates, all roughly eight feet long and about as big around as a telephone pole. He and Remi dragged each log down to the beach, where they arranged them in a row.

SAM WENT TO WORK. The construction was simple enough, Sam explained. He grabbed a nearby piece of driftwood and inscribed the plan in the sand:

"Not exactly the Queen Mary," Remi observed with a smile.

"For that," Sam replied, "I'd need at least four more logs."

"Why the protruding ends?"

"Two reasons: stability and leverage."

"For what?"

"You'll see. Right now I need some line--a few dozen six-foot lengths."

Remi saluted. "As you command."

AFTER AN HOUR'S WORK, Sam straightened up and stared at his creation. His narrowed eyes told Remi her husband was running equations in his head. After a minute of this, Sam nodded. "Okay. Should be buoyant enough," he proclaimed. "With about twenty percent in reserve."

WITH THE RAFT in tow, they slipped back through the inlet to the island's western side and headed south along the coast until they were again over the bell's resting place. Using the gaff hook, Sam maneuvered the raft around to the landward side of the Andreyale and secured it to the cleats.

"My gut tells me we're due for another drive-by," Sam said, sitting down in a deck chair. Remi joined him, and together they drank water and watched the water until, thirty minutes later, the Yulin appeared to the north, a half mile out.