‘Never. I——” The door was thrown open. Hearing the spring touched, he dashed through on the instant, and struck down the person who presented himself, with his bludgeon. Why did he take me?’ Martha’s damp eyes were puzzled. To be free of outward distraction, he shut his eyes and concentrated upon the scraps she had given him; and shortly, with his eyes still closed, he began to describe Ruth's island: the mountain at one end, with the ever-recurring scarves of mist drifting across the lava-scarred face; the jungle at the foot of it; the dazzling border of white sand; the sprawling store of the trader and the rotting wharf, sundrily patched with drift-wood; the native huts on the sandy floor of the palm groves; the scattered sandalwood and ebony; the screaming parakeets in the plantains; the fishing proas; the mission with its white washed walls and barren frontage; the lagoon, fringed with coco palms, now ruffled emerald, now placid sapphire. "Once there," proceeded Wild, without noticing the interruption, "he's as good as in his grave. \"Actually, John, I really must get going. They stopped talking, except to each other. ” Her heart had warmed toward him. " He shifted the pages together, rolled and thrust them under her arm.
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