But as Rowland sprang to the helm, and gave the signal for pursuit, a roar like a volley of ordnance was heard aloft, and the wind again burst its bondage. He was no longer in military uniform, and it was evident from his suit of brown brocade that he had been disturbed while preparing for an evening engagement. “You’re not interested in politics?” he asked, almost with a note of protest. "Not my king's," returned Wood. “You, anyhow, don’t deserve it,” he said. ” She scoffed. His vicious abusiveness vanished. Occasionally he would lean back and stare at the window which gave upon the sea.
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