There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. But this I cannot do. But it was of no avail. A few bricks, dislodged probably by his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room. He stared at her stupidly, forgetting to guard against the tactics he had come to expect from her. Her heart in her mouth, she heard his foot scrape on the floorboard and knew from his expression that Gosse had heard it too. All at once he recollected the fact that McClintock's copra plantation was down that way, somewhere in the South Seas; had an island of his own.
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