We were only—les autres. I will pray for you. . The skipper, Van Galgebrok, affirmed to me,—nay, gave me the additional testimony of two of his crew,—that he was thrown overboard. At the same time Sydney and Brendon also vacated their places. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive. Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. He stood transfixed. “I am afraid—I really think that one of us ought to go with you,” he said. “So Brendon and I,” he said, “have been troubled with the same fears. “How are you feeling?” She asked with grave concern in her voice.
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