The villagers were thronging to church. On this fresh outburst of the storm, Wood threw himself instinctively into the bottom of the boat, and clasping the little orphan to his breast, endeavoured to prepare himself to meet his fate. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. A cup of lies. But never would any so dishonour himself as to hand a fellow rogue over to the authorities. There was only one sound—the fall of the sea upon the main beach, and even that said: "Hush! Hush! Hus-s-sh!" Not a leaf stirred, not a shadow moved. . ” He stood up and waited for her to move.
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