As she pulled quietly upwards, a shade of thought rested on her pretty face.

I do not know of what she was thinking; and may add that if I did, I should not tell you.

I would as lief rob a church.
She had passed the jetties, and was pulling her left paddle to turn the corner off Kit's House, when a flash crossed the heaven from behind her, and in an instant followed that rending explosion which (at different distances) has been twice presented to the reader, and with pardonable pride; for the story of Troy has now a catastrophe as well as episodes, and is vindicated as a theme.
As soon as the throbbing of the atmosphere and the buzzing in her ears began to die away, two swift thoughts crossed her brain.
Oddly enough, the first was for the safety of Kit's House.
She glanced over her shoulder.

A mere film of smoke hung over the creek, and to the right of this she saw the house standing, seemingly unharmed.

Then came the second thought-- If the explosion came from the creek, where the light smoke hung, there would be a wave.
She half turned on the thwart and looked intently.
Yes.