A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. "'Odd's-my-life! what's this?" exclaimed the carpenter, looking at the superscription of one of them. He fancied, indeed, that he beheld a figure spring upon the starling at the moment when the boats came in contact; but, as he could perceive no one near him, he concluded he must have been mistaken. The gentleman didn't communicate his business to me. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. You can trust me, Anna.
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