She held out both her hands. He, next, tried to clamber up the flying buttresses and soffits of the pier, in the hope of reaching some of the windows and other apertures with which, as a man-of-war is studded with port-holes, the sides of the bridge were pierced. He stopped before her suddenly. ’ ‘What?’ uttered Gerald, startled. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. Certainly, there wasn't a thing in the pockets. At any rate she must see me. There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight.
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