Rushing towards the entrance of the well-hole, Blueskin touched the secret spring. Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. Running his hand carefully over it in search of the lock, he perceived to his dismay that it was fastened on the other side. She had, by the magic of recollection, set the picture of the typhoon between herself and her table companions: the terrible rollers thundering on the white shore, the deafening bellow of the wind, the bending and snapping palms, the thatches of the native huts scattering inland, the blur of sand dust, and those two outcasts defying the elements. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. “Lucy, that’s horrible. ” She departed from the couch and went upstairs to find John.
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