She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. He was carelessly dressed, and there were marks of unrest upon his features. "Well, I will see him," replied the knight, after a moment's pause; "he may be from the Earl of Mar. ’ Fury was in her face. "If I had my old tools with me, we'd soon master this obstacle," he muttered. But this is not sufficient.
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