’ He nodded in the direction of her pistol. "I have nearly done," replied the stranger. ‘I am not a person, Marthe. They were headed by an athleticlooking, swarthy-featured man, who was armed with a cutlass, which he waved over his head to cheer on his companions. An unhappy little sigh escaped her. Something about the girl had suggested an idea. "Keep a sharp look out, Bess. She plucked at the knots of her racket and heard him to the end, then spoke in a restrained undertone. ’ Gerald grinned. Couldn’t face me with what he’d done, the miserable blackguard.
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