Then all at once the shadow deepened swiftly, the stars came out in a
crowd, scattering a rain of pale sparks upon the blackness of the water,
while the coast stretched low down, a dark belt without a gleam. Above
it the top-hamper of the brig loomed indistinct and high.
Mrs. Travers spoke first.
"How unnaturally quiet! It is like a desert of land and water without a
living soul."
"One man at least dwells in it," said d'Alcacer, lightly, "and if he is
to be believed there are other men, full of evil intentions."
"Do you think it is true?" Mrs. Travers asked.
Before answering d'Alcacer tried to see the expression of her face but
the obscurity was too profound already.
"How can one see a dark truth on such a dark night?" he said, evasively.
"But it is easy to believe in evil, here or anywhere else."
She seemed to be lost in thought for a while.
"And that man himself?" she asked.
After some time d'Alcacer began to speak slowly. "Rough, uncommon,
decidedly uncommon of his kind. Not at all what Don Martin thinks him to
be. For the rest--mysterious to me. He is _your_ countryman after all--"
She seemed quite surprised by that view.
"Yes," she said, slowly. "But you know, I can not--what shall I
say?--imagine him at all. He has nothing in common with the mankind I
know.
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