But the wench who tricked me shall bitterly repent it. At length, he fell down on the road, fully expecting each moment would prove his last. 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. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. Horrible doubts assailed her. " "There, now! You mustn't get mixed.
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