"I've counted ten coffins so far. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. His bodily suffering, however, was nothing compared with his mental anguish. No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. She thought she had hidden well from him. I ought to have gone long ago. He gave an order, the proa was floated and the sail run up. ‘I should never have told you. ‘En tout cas, it is not up at all, but down. Two or three podgy-looking old men with wives to match, half-a-dozen overdressed girls, and a couple of underdressed American ones, who still wore the clothes in which they had been tramping half over London since breakfast time. His mother's scream seemed again to ring in his ears, and he was so deeply affected that, fearful of exciting attention, he was about to quit the sacred edifice, when he was stopped by the entrance of Thames, who looked pale as death, with Winifred leaning on his arm. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. He thought of her and himself, and no longer in that vein of incidental adventure in which he had begun.
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