" "What? Good Lord, he's alive with fleas! They'll be all over the place. "Oh, yes!—for always!" He took her hands and pressed them upon his thrumming heart; and in this attitude they remained for some time. ” He did not move. She had, by the magic of recollection, set the picture of the typhoon between herself and her table companions: the terrible rollers thundering on the white shore, the deafening bellow of the wind, the bending and snapping palms, the thatches of the native huts scattering inland, the blur of sand dust, and those two outcasts defying the elements. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. "Holloa—what's that?" cried Austin, starting up.
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