" "Wretch!" cried Mrs. Brendon. "What will you do?" asked Thames. Tell him the truth, Annabel. Sheppard: "nothing can save me. 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. "Heaven have mercy on his soul!" ejaculated Wood. Had it not been lashed to the adjoining wherry, it must have been upset, and have precipitated the opponents into the water.
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