For a moment or two Gerald stood in the total silence of amazement, his pistol up and pointing, aware that Hilary was likewise stunned, standing with halfdrawn sword. Taking her limbs was the only thing I could do short of killing her. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. Spurlock dove headlong at the other's legs, toppling the man. The watermen, who manned the larger wherry, immediately shipped their oars, grappled with the drifting skiff, and held it fast. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. "Follow me, Thames," cried Jack, dropping into the chasm. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. He begged their attention for the next turn. But she could not live in constant association with him without having these gaps filled.
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