He recognized, or thought he recognized, the baronet, and came to a deadlock, with a stifled imprecation.
"It's all up with them three hundred pounds this bout," he thought; "confound the luck!" He could not hear the words--the distance was too great--but he could see them plainly.

The wild shriek of Lady Kingsland would have been echoed by her terrified mother had not the artist clapped his hand firmly over her mouth.
"Darnation! Dry up, can't you?
Oh, good God!" He started up in horror, nearly upsetting the boat.

He had seen the fatal blow given, he saw the body hurled over the railing, and he saw the face of the murderer! A flash of moonlight shone full upon it bending down, and he recognized, in men's clothes, the woman who was to be his wife.
The assassin fled.

As she vanished G.W.Parmalee looked up with a hollow groan, remained irresolute for an instant, shook himself, and took up the oars.
"We must pick up the body," he said, in an unearthly voice.

"The waves will wash it away in five minutes." He rowed ashore, lifted the lifeless form, carried it into the boat, and laid it across the mother's knee.
"We'll put for the 'Angelina,'" he observed.