Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. 8. Wood, I desire you'll put on your best things, and join us as soon as possible. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. Armed, however, with the implement he had so fortunately obtained, he did not despair of success. The island had evidently grown round this lagoon, approached it gradually from the volcanic upheaval—an island of coral and lava. The delay was only momentary. .
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