"Put about, waterman, for God's sake!" cried Wood, whose humanity got the better of every personal consideration; "some one is overboard. “I do not suppose he will be home till late. ‘Never mind where. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. The music confused and distracted her, and made her struggle against a feeling of intoxication. It frightened her to behold her heart and mind thus laid bare; but the chapter following would reassure her. Every care had been taken of it, as well as of himself, by the humane inmates of the house in which he had sought shelter.
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