Mrs. Van Stuyler was shaking in every muscle, afflicted by a sort of St.
Vitus' dance induced by physical fear and outraged propriety. Quite
apart from these, however, she experienced a third sensation which made
for a nameless inquietude. She was a woman of the world, well versed in
most of its ways, and she fully recognised that that single bound from
the bridge-rail of the _St. Louis_ to the other side of the clouds had
already carried her and her charge beyond the pale of human law.
The same thought, mingled with other feelings, half of wonder and half
of re-awakened tenderness, was just then uppermost in Miss Zaidie's
mind. It was quite obvious that the man who could create and control
such a marvellous vehicle as this could, morally as well as physically,
lift himself beyond the reach of the conventions which civilised society
had instituted for its own protection and government.
He could do with them exactly as he pleased. They were utterly at his
mercy. He might carry them away to some unexplored spot on one of the
continents, or to some unknown island in the midst of the wide Pacific.
He might even transport them into the midst of the awful solitudes which
surround the Poles. He could give them the choice between doing as he
wished, submitting unconditionally to his will, or committing suicide by
starvation.
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