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She taught him all the lore she had; about bird-life and tree-life and the changing mysteries of the sea. "Tell Mr. Anna, why will you persist in this single-handed combat with life?” “Don’t!” she cried. ‘But it is idiot. Would you mind drawing them back?” Ennison sprang up, but he never reached the curtains. She opened the door with a neon colored key. Spurling, hastening to the rescue. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. Over the sea of heads arose a black and dismal object. Had it not been lashed to the adjoining wherry, it must have been upset, and have precipitated the opponents into the water.
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