” “You are not yourself to-night, Courtlaw,” Ennison said. . “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. They'll be back soon enough—or not at all. You understand what I mean. She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. . Had she expected to wed Valade herself? Had the fellow broken a vow of betrothal, or abandoned her? He must find out more.
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