But the baby's emotions were crude, and probably in no wise connected
with the tremors of ship-wreck, whereas Mrs. Somerville, during these
full days, was constantly asking herself how it could be possible that
she was living at all.
"It will be a real manifestation of Providence if we ever reach England
again," she cried, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "I'm sure
John and I have said so many a time during the past week. To think of
the ship's blowing up in the way she did, it makes me all of a tremble,
it does."
"Oh," broke in Elsie, thinking that the information she possessed would
help to calm the older woman, "we have made a good many discoveries
since--since the boat went away without me, I mean. But do tell me,
how did those horrid Chileans manage to cast off the tackle before Mr.
Gray or some of the other men were able to stop them? Of course, it is
matterless now, in a sense, but at that moment it looked like leaving
those on the ship to certain death."
Mrs. Somerville was stricken dumb. The American's shooting of two men
on White Horse Island had naturally called for a complete explanation
on his part, and she did not know how to answer Elsie's question.
Pages:
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331