Explore "The Bird of Paradise" by E. Phillips Oppenheim on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Hamer always afterwards believed that his actions in that brief hour or two were governed by some automatic function as well as by the quick working of his brain. He had made no sound at Auguste's touch, he uttered no exclamation when he saw him. In half a dozen seconds his clasp knife was working at the leather thongs which secured the gags. In less than a minute Auguste was a free man. It was the latter then who broke the spell. With the urge for silence instinctively forced upon both of them, he permitted himself the slightest of groans as he tried to swing himself on to his feet.
"How did Monsieur arrive here?" he asked. "Swam from the _château_ rocks," Hamer whispered. "I had to smash a fellow's head in who was on deck. He's lying still enough. How many of the others are there?"