According
to Wadakimba, the end had indeed come in that fashion. It was as if
the mountain had suddenly given a deep sigh. The blast had carried
away solid rock. A sheet of flame had licked the spot where
Farquharson had been hurled headlong, and he was not.
Wadakimba, viewing all this from afar, had scuttled off to his hut.
Later he had ventured back to the scene of the tragedy. He had
picked up Farquharson's scorched helmet, which had been blown off to
some distance, and he also exhibited a pair of binoculars washed
down by the tide of lava, scarred and twisted by the heat, from
which the lenses had melted away.
I translated for Miss Stanleigh briefly, while she stood turning
over in her hands the twisted and blackened binoculars, which were
still warm. She heard me through without question or comment, and
when I proposed that we get back to the _Sylph_ at once, mindful of
her aunt's distressed nerves, she assented with a nod. She seemed to
have lost the power of speech. In a daze she followed as I led the
way back through the forest.
* * * * *
Major Stanleigh and his wife deferred their departure for England
until their niece should be properly married to Joyce.
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