"Yes, much. Do you know that it is the most fearful place for storms in the whole world—the most awful hurricanes that come smashing down everything and killing people? You can't escape if you're in the way of the hurricane. It whirls the roofs off the houses and twists out the plantain trees just like straws. The rivers wash away whole acres of canes and swamp the farms. Sometimes the sea rages so that boats are carried right up into the streets of Kingston. There!"
"But why does that please you?"
"Why," she said with proud indignation, "the notion of people talking as if they could go out to Jamaica and live for ever, and come back just when they please—it is too ridiculous! Many accidents may happen. And isn't November a very bad time for storms? Ships often get wrecked going out to the West Indies, don't they?"
At another time Trelyon would have laughed at this bloodthirsty young woman: at this moment he was too serious. "Mabyn," said he, "I can't bear this any longer—standing by like a fool and looking on while another man is doing his best to marry Wenna: I can't go on like this any longer. Mabyn, when did you say she would leave Mr. Trewhella's house to-night?"
"I did not say anything about it. I suppose we shall leave about ten—the young ones leave at nine."
"You will be there?"
"Yes, Wenna and I are to keep order."
"Nobody else with you?"
"No."
He looked at her rather hesitatingly. "And supposing, Mabyn," he said slowly—"supposing you and Wenna were to leave at ten, and that it is a beautiful clear night, you might walk down by the wood instead of the road; and then, supposing that you came out on the road down at the foot, and you found there a carriage and pair of horses—"