By this time Capes’ hair had bleached nearly white, and his skin had become a skin of red copper shot with gold. " "I have often conjured up some frightful vision of the dead," murmured the knight, "but I never dreamed of an interview with the living. Besides this, the door was crossed and recrossed by iron bars, clenched by broad-headed nails. "I have nearly done," replied the stranger. There’s a hansom coming round the corner. The prisoner, however, submitted more quietly than was anticipated. How can he help you?” She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his heart beat to music. To be free of outward distraction, he shut his eyes and concentrated upon the scraps she had given him; and shortly, with his eyes still closed, he began to describe Ruth's island: the mountain at one end, with the ever-recurring scarves of mist drifting across the lava-scarred face; the jungle at the foot of it; the dazzling border of white sand; the sprawling store of the trader and the rotting wharf, sundrily patched with drift-wood; the native huts on the sandy floor of the palm groves; the scattered sandalwood and ebony; the screaming parakeets in the plantains; the fishing proas; the mission with its white washed walls and barren frontage; the lagoon, fringed with coco palms, now ruffled emerald, now placid sapphire.
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