Her reply rather surprised him. “If you can watch so serenely the annihilation of your countrymen, I can endure witnessing the victory of mine. Oh,” here she unconsciously clutched Zopyrus’ arm, unaware of the thrill of contact to the Persian, “the second ship is commanded by my brave uncle, Ameinias. Look, he is pursuing a Persian ship which has so far eluded his beak!”


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"Forgive me! Forgive me!" was all that Thorburn could say.

The second day after Mrs. Creswell's visit to Helmingham, Walter Joyce was sitting in his chambers hard at work. The approaching change in his condition had affected him very little indeed. He had laughed to himself to think how little. He would have laughed more had he not at the same time reflected that it is not a particularly good sign for a man to be so much overwhelmed by business or so generally careless as to what becomes of him, as to look upon his marriage with very little elation, to prepare for it in a very matter-of-fact and unromantic way. That no man can serve two masters we know on the best authority; and there are two who certainly will not brook being served at the same time by the one worshipper, love and ambition. Joyce had been courting the latter deity for many months with unexampled assiduity, and with very excellent success, and, in reality, had never swerved in his allegiance. He was afraid he had; he induced himself to believe that that desire for some one to share his life with him was really legitimate love-prompting, whereas it was much more likely a mere wish, springing from vanity, to have some one always at hand with the censer, some one to play the part of the stage-confidante, and receive all his outpourings while at the same time she was loud in his praises. The love which he felt for Maude Creswell differed as much from the passion with which, in the bygone years, Marian Ashurst had inspired him, as the thick brown turgid Rhine stream which flows past Emmerich differs from the bright, limpid, diamond-sprayed water which flashes down at Schaffhausen; but there was "body" in it, as there is in the Rhine stream at Emmerich, sufficient to keep him straight from any of the insidious attacks of ambition, as he soon had occasion to prove.

She went to the door that separated her room from Arthurs, 52and unlocked it noisily. She walked across the room and stood by the window. Arthur was awake too. He leant up upon his elbow and regarded her without a word.

"Then, sir, if you will have me borne to your camp, and my wounds dressed, I will reward you with fifty crowns."

Peter went back unobtrusively to the schoolroom. In his desk were two slices of bread-and-butter secreted from the breakfast table and wrapped in clean pages from an exercise-book. These were his simple provisions. With these, a pencil, and a good serviceable catapult he proposed to set out into the wide, wide world. He had no money.

They drove along, faster and faster, until they came to a great portal, and out into the blinding radiance of a molten copper sky.

Her face blanched in an instant. Her grasp tightened rigidly over the arm of the chair on which it lay, but she gave no other sign of emotion. Even her voice, though hollow and metallic, never shook as she repeated the name, "Maude Creswell!"

At last, in the month of January, letters came saying the Duke was about starting, that leave was granted me as well as certain others, with instructions to report to Mr. Sempil, the King's Agent at Paris, who would direct us further.

Of all herbs the yarrow is the best for cures and potions. It is even sewn up in clothes as a preventive of disease.

The rhythm of the immortal "Blue Danube" waltz swung through the big Indian ballroom. It was long before two-steps, Bostons, tangos were dreamed of, when, at any rate in India, the pas de quatre was still a novelty, and the "Washington Post" had not yet been introduced. Almost everyone was dancing; the only onlookers were a few partnerless, or non-dancing men, and a sprinkling of senior people whose exile in the East was nearly over. The aged white man or woman is seldom to be encountered in India; they have "done their time" and gone home--or to their graves. Sometimes they stay to live out last years in some more or less salubrious region, but such settlers are dying out, and, with easier transit home, are not replaced; for though living may be less expensive, and cheap luxuries attractive, there is always the loss of prestige and the desire to end their days in England.

“Once more, Wolfie! Once more!” chattered the Boy through teeth that clicked together like castanets.


1.Dicky was dying to ask Captain Sarsfield about Polly; but, although he had been gazetted three times, he was so afraid of the captain that he could not get it out to save his life until just as Captain Sarsfield was leaving.



I write this as an old man who has lived through a life of action, not without its reverses, but as I write I can distinctly recall the wretched misery that chilled my blood and turned my heart to water as the Superior gave his sentence. No distress I have ever gone through since has equalled the helpless despair that wrung my lonely, miserable little heart as I stood there trembling in every limb before my judge. I was sick with the shame and humiliation; I was indignant at the injustice; I was overcome by my powerlessness, but I do not think I was afraid.





"And why did it surprise you, Gerty?" asked the old lady, already smiling at the quaint reply which she always expected from Gertrude.


"Other refuge have I none;

. . .