Within a few minutes his face had suddenly changed, and it was now awful to look upon. Not for an instant did he turn his eyes from the bed.
The delirium of the sick man had deepened by this time; the little, foolish, baby play-words in the poor broken English came from him no more, but he seemed to ask eager questions, in a tongue that Greeba did not understand.
"This man is an Icelander," said Jason.
"Didn't you know that before?" said Greeba.
"What is his name?" said Jason.
"Haven't you heard it yet?"
"What is his name?"
Then for one quick instant he turned his face towards her face, and she seemed to read his thought.
"Oh God!" she cried, and she staggered back.
Just then there was a sound of footsteps on the shingle outside, and at the next moment Stean and Thurstan Fairbrother and old Davy Kerruish pushed open the door. They had come to fetch Greeba.