[Practicas-developers] who is guarding a door a

[Woock]

Til it is time to dress.) End of Act I. ACT II. THE ISLAND Two months
have elapsed, and the scene is a desert island in the Pacific, on which
our adventurers have been wrecked. The curtain rises on a sea of bamboo,
which shuts out all view save the foliage of palm trees and some gaunt
rocks. Occasionally Crichton and Treherne come momentarily into sight,
hacking and hewing the bamboo, through which they are making a clearing
between the ladies and the shore; and by and by, owing to their efforts,
we shall have an unrestricted outlook on to a sullen sea that is at
present hidden. Then we shall also be able to note a mast standing out
of the water--all that is left, saving floating wreckage, of the
ill-fated yacht the Bluebell. The beginnings of a hut will also be seen,
with Crichton driving its walls into the ground or astride its roof of
saplings, for at present he is doing more than one thing at a time. In a
red shirt, with the ends of his sailor's breeches thrust into
wading-boots, he looks a man for the moment; we suddenly remember some
one's saying--perhaps it was ourselves--that a cataclysm would be needed
to get him out of his servant's clothes, and apparently it has been
forthcoming. It is no longer beneath our dignity to cast an inquiring
eye on his appearance. His features are not distinguished, but he has a
strong jaw and green eyes, in which a yellow light burns that we have
not seen before. His dark hair, hitherto so decorously sleek, has been
ruffled this way and that by wind and weather, as if they were part of
the cataclysm and wanted to help his chance. His muscles must be soft
and flabby still, but though they shriek aloud to him to desist, he
rains lusty blows with his axe, li
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