" "You're not deceiving me!" said Thames, doubtfully. She still had her letter of credit. Everybody talking of you. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. Are you prepared to do it?” Her hands clenched. ” Her urge to drink deeply of his blood was growing insane, ignited by what he had already donated. There was a trader—a man who bought copra and pearls. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. The delay was only momentary. A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila.
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