CHAPTER VI. Retribution has a queer way of acting sometimes. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. He had something across his knees. ‘There is no question of a dispute. Michelle’s eyes darted around, she refused to look straight at Lucy. But we waste time. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. She read for half an hour, then closed the book because Spurlock appeared to have fallen asleep. The man turned at the exclamation, and so did several of the bystanders; but they could not make out who had uttered it. Halloa, Ben!" cried he, shaking a broad-backed fellow, equipped in a short-skirted doublet, and having a badge upon his arm,—"scullers wanted.
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