When Hans re-entered the cave he was greeted by the eager faces of the camp's occupants, all except Lea's mother, who merely stared blankly at her own feet. Her ordinarily well-kept head of dark hair was now strewn wildly about her head, her eyes red and puffy. Lea's father approached as the prince hastily began rummaging through the camp's supplies.
"Where's Lea?" he asked in a hushed tone. Though his face did not show it, Hans could tell he was worried.
"On the beach," replied Hans, not looking up as he continued to search the pile of assorted items.
"And just what is she doing there? She's not allowed to leave the cave at night!" he yelled angrily. Hans was losing his patience as well. Be that as it may, you'll be glad she broke that rule tonight.
"It's not here," spoke Hans quickly, moving across the room to a different pile. Lea's father followed.
"Why is my daughter alone on the beach? I won't ask you again-"
"She's helping get us off this island," spoke Hans with exuberance. He had found what he was looking for. Lea's father stood in silence, staring at Hans. The other residents did the same. Even Lea's mother looked up, but not to Hans. She hurried clumsily to her husband and wrapped her arms around him, tears running down her cheeks. Good tears. Grabbing the torch from the clutter that lay in front of him, Hans ran toward the fire in the camp's center. He lit the torch. "You'd best come with me," he called to Lea's father. The man obeyed.
As the two made their way out of the cave, a sound like that of a horn could be heard in the distance.
"What is that?" inquired Lea's father, making sure to keep up with Hans' rushed pace.
"A conch shell," smiled Hans.
They arrived at the beach and were greeted by the sight of Lea, her mouth still pressed against the conch, happily blowing away on the shell. Hans ran toward Lea, trailed by her father. As they approached, the noise of the conch was hard enough on the men's ears to cause them both to flinch. He frantically set his gaze upon the black sea ahead. Hans could no longer make out a ship in the darkness. For a moment, Hans considered taking the shell from the smiling girl. Instead, he opted to speak over the noise.
"Is...Is it gone?" Hans loudly asked the girl, nervously staring at the ocean in front of him. She lowered the conch on her own.
"Over there," she replied, pointing to his right. Even with Lea's guidance, Hans could barely see the silhouette of the ship, now three-hundred yards from shore. The prince raised the torch over his head, waving it back and forth.
"Can they see you?" Lea's father asked Hans, anxiously. When Hans ignored him, too focused on the task at hand to hear him speak, he turned to his daughter. The man's light hair seemed orange in the torchlight. "Lea, come here. You had me and your mother so worried-"
"Blow on the shell again," interrupted Hans, lowering his torch. He turned to face her, bent down, and put his empty hand on Lea's shoulder. She smiled. "Blow on the shell so we can all go home." He pushed a stray hair into its place on her head. It made no difference to the girl's appearance, but Hans couldn't help himself; her hair would retain its messy, ill-kept look until the next time it was washed. Let's hope that's under the deck of a ship. Hans stood and returned to waving the torch back and forth above his head, more eagerly than before. Lea resumed her merry trumpeting of the conch. After what seemed like the longest forty-five seconds of Hans' life, he noticed a faint light coming from the ship, moving in rhythm with his torch.
By the time the ship had anchored offshore and its crew reached the island, the sun's warm glow already covered the white sands of the island. When the men of The Princess made their way onto land, the island's inhabitants had already cleared the cave of supplies, and had placed them on the beach. By the way the other men's postures changed when he stepped onto land, Hans identified the last man of The Princess' crew to arrive ashore as the captain. Hans was not the only one, however, as the captain had been hurriedly approached by Lea's father, who quietly whispered something that was only audible to the two men. Pointing away from the beach and deeper into the island, the captain had nodded, awaiting a response. Lea's father nodded in return, and the two had disappeared in that direction, behind the brush. When they had returned to the beach not fifteen minutes later, Lea's father had walked toward Hans.
"You see that man?" he asked Hans, pointing to the captain, who was now talking with his crew.
"The captain, you mean?" replied Hans. What were you two talking about? "Yes, I see him."
"Good eye," Lea's father spoke, in a tone which indicated he was genuinely impressed. He motioned the other two men from camp to his side. Looking at all three men, Lea's father spoke, "See that man over there?" he asked them, his finger now pointed toward the captain, "He's the captain," he said, turning toward Hans before continuing to speak, "and he says we leave first thing in the morning. Now men," he returned to addressing the whole group, no longer pointing at the captain, "most of us have waited four years to get off this island, and now we have to wait one more day." As he said the last three words, he made a fist with his right hand and banged it on his left in cadence, pausing when he was done. He returned his gaze to Hans. "Do you know what that means?"
"Freedom," Hans spoke, addressing the group as a whole, "for us." He looked past the men and to Lea, who was sitting on the white, glittering sand. Hans had washed her hair that morning, and it looked beautiful. The sunlight glimmered in her hair, making it glow like fire. She looked as perfect sitting there as he had ever seen her. "But more importantly," She was running her fingers along the side of the conch shell now, staring at the ocean. "For those we love." The men erupted into a cheer. All except Hans. He walked over to Lea's place in the sand.
"Is this seat taken?" he asked, gracefully.
She looked up him and giggled, before returning her gaze to the sea. She patted the sand next to her, with an equal amount of grace.
The prince sat.