At any rate, if he is carried beyond the reef, he has a fighting chance.

We have none." "Why not?
Are these men on the island so deaf to human sympathies that they would murder all of us in cold blood ?" The girl's sweet, low-pitched voice sounded inexpressibly sad in that vaulted place.

Even De Sylva's studied control gave way before its music.

He uttered some anguished appeal to the deity in his own tongue, and flung out his hands impulsively.
"What would you have me say ?" he cried, and his eyes blazed, while the scar on his forehead darkened with the gust of passion that swept over his strong features.

"I might lie to you, and try to persuade you that we can exist here without food or water, whereas to-morrow, or next day at the utmost, will see most of us dead.