It is simply our point of view which is altogether different. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715. Everything in his favour—the luck of the gods! The only white men were miles down the coast. She stole a few glances at John as she stood and played the pieces. “It was inevitable,” he declared. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke.
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