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. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. ’ She moved to Melusine’s side as she spoke. We’re closer than you think. Ramage tethered the horse to the farther gate-post, and Caesar blew heavily and began to investigate the hedge. " "That I will," replied Jack, "in the twinkling of a bedpost.
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