“What has he done? “What shall I do. ’ ‘Lord, man, it’s only a scratch!’ Suddenly Gerald snapped his fingers. Gashes on his arms were already beginning to heal and disappear. But it was not so ordered. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. "Can I help you, Jack?" asked Thames, taking up a plane. But I'll tell e'e what we might do——" The young man heard no more. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored. At one moment, it seemed as if the flying bark was about to put to shore. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware.
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