The vault, in which Sir Rowland found himself, resembled in some measure the cabin of a ship. 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. From time to time, however, he was baffled. Her prevailing effect was one of quiet and complete assurance, as though she knew all about everything, and was only restrained by her instinctive delicacy from telling what she knew. ‘I see well that I am dealing with you. And now she was witnessing or observing the complicated machinery of civilization through which they had come, at length to land on the beach of her island.
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