Lucy entered and Mike followed. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. Not a bad man as men go, but he would sell whisky and gin. Not even, it seemed, this interfering monsieur le major. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. She did not see Sebastian turn towards the boy and his family, but every hair on the back of her neck stood up rigidly. The signal of distress was evidently understood. Lord bless you marm! we sees plenty on 'em in our purfession. Without hindrance—present occupation. If, around noon, a coconut proa landed, the boys made no effort to unload.
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