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. You understand me, sirrah?" "Perfectly," replied Jack. Quilt Arnold was stationed at the stair-head, near which the boat containing the captive boy was moored. He daren't quarrel with me: and if he does, let him look to himself.
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