Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. From the Sha-mien to the yacht, Spurlock had uttered no word; though, even in the semi-darkness, no gesture or word of Ruth's escaped him. She got up, as she had been told to do, at his appearance, and he amazed her by sitting down, according to custom, on her stool. " "Your hesitation is not in your favour," observed Trenchard, sternly. “Unless you have an appointment, which you haven’t,” he said, “you’ll only waste your time here.
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