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"I can't help thinking of it, Sir," answered the widow. Darrell stood erect in the bark, with his drawn sword in hand, prepared to repel the attack of his assailants, who, in their turn, seemed to await with impatience the moment which should deliver him into their power. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. At the same time she was wildly exultant at the resolution she had taken, the end she had made to her blunder. Stay! I'll go myself. ’ The lady hesitated a moment, her eyes seeming to measure the distance between where he stood and the door. Everything had so far come to pass as the withered old Kanaka woman had foretold. —Strype's Stow. Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it.
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