The Denunciation VI. " "Unpossible, master," rejoined Ben; "the tide's running down like a mill-sluice, and the wind's right in our teeth. "Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. Furious shouting, and the thunder of running feet. I will do all this not because I love you, but—because you are Anna’s sister. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. Something in his tone pinched her heart. "What do you want?" he asked, in a gruff voice. But you need not fear,’ she added, shaking him off.
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