me as Mackay. And don't say anything
unless they ask you point blank." Jackson stared, but nodded an assent.
He had a good deal of faith in Mr. Heron's wisdom.

Pale and gaunt as Percival undoubtedly was, Elizabeth thought that he
looked very like his old self, as he stood frowning and biting his
moustache in the bows, and looking shorewards as though he were afraid
of something that he might see. This familiar expression--something
between anxiety and annoyance--made Elizabeth smile to herself in spite
of her agitation. Percival was not much changed.

She was sitting near him, and she longed to ask the question which was
uppermost in her mind; but it was a difficult question to ask, seeing
that he did not mention Brian Luttrell of his own accord. With an effort
that made her turn pale, she bent forward at last, and said, fixing her
eyes steadily upon him:--

"What news of the _Falcon_?"

He looked at her and hesitated, "Don't ask me now," he said, averting
his face.

She was silent. He heard a little sigh, and glancing at her again, saw a
look of heart-sick resignation in her white face which told him that she
thought Brian must be dead. He felt a pang of compunction, and a desire
to tell her all, then he restrained himself. "She will not have to wait
long," he thought, with a rather bitter smile.

When they landed, he quietly took her hand in his, and led her a little
apart from the others. Angela and Rupert, Mrs. Norman and Mr. Fane,
were, however, close behind. They followed Percival's footsteps as he
showed the way to one of the huts which the men had occupied during
their stay on the island. When they were near it, he turned and spoke to
Rupert and Angela. "I am obliged to be very rude," he said. "Let me go
into the hut with Miss Murray first of all. There is something I want
her to see--something I must say. I will come back directly."

They saw that he was agitated, although he tried to speak as if nothing
were the matter; and they drew back, respecting his emotion. As for
Elizabeth, she waited: she could do nothing else. A little while ago she
had said to herself that Percival was not changed: she thought
differently now. He was changed; and yet she did not know how or why.

He stopped at the door, and turned to her. He still held her hand in a
close, warm grasp. "Don't be startled," he said, gently. "I am going to
surprise you very much. There is a friend of mine here: remember, I say,
a friend of min