There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. Would it be Thérèse?’ She shook her head. "Where is he?" asked she, in an agitated whisper. The half-nude brown bodies of the crew informed Ah Cum that the schooner had come up from the South Seas. On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting.
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