Genre - Adventures. You are on the page - 3
topped more than once, and, loitering along, it was dark when they neared their destination.As they would have drawn up to the wharf there was a sudden flash of light--gone in a moment--followed by a dark body that swished by them like a flash. Frank uttered an exclamation of astonishment. "See that?" he demanded. "Yes. What could it have been?" "You've got me, but it's heading toward the open sea. Great Scott! Maybe it's an enemy." "An enemy?" "Yes;
an air of good-humoured sang froid which was peculiar to him, Foster said--"Captain, don't you think I've had these bits of rope-yarn on my wrists long enough? I'm not used, you see, to walking the deck without the use of my hands; and a heavy lurch, as like as not, would send me slap into the lee scuppers--sailor though I be. Besides, I won't jump overboard without leave, you may rely upon that. Neither will I attempt, single-handed, to fight your whole crew, so you needn't be
es that they have something like a quarter of a million dollars buried in tin cans among the brush over there now--""It is their form of stocking," put in Charlie Webster. "Precisely. Well, as I was saying, those old fellows would bury their hoards in some cave or other, and then go off--and get hanged. Their ghosts perhaps came back. The darkies have lots of ghost-tales about them. But their money is still here, lots of it, you bet your life." "Do they ever make
e temper and disposition of your child may be affected by the nourishment it receives, I think it more likely to be injured by the milk of a married woman who will desert her own child for the sake of gain. The misfortune which has happened to this young woman is not always a proof of a bad heart, but of strong attachment, and the overweening confidence of simplicity.""You are correct, Doctor," replied Mr Easy, "and her head proves that she is a modest young woman, with
on. Theshuffling of feet, the rattling of chains, the harsh voices of theguard, made it impossible to distinguish any words passing between thetwo. I could only watch them, quickly assured that I had likewiseattracted the girl's attention, and that her gaze occasionally soughtmine. Then the guards came to me, and, with my limbs freed of fetters,I was passed down the steep ladder into the semi-darkness betweendecks, where we were to be confined. The haunting memory of her faceaccompanied me
that Christmas morning, the road which skirts the seashore from St. Peter's Port to the Vale was clothed in white. From midnight till the break of day the snow had been falling. Towards nine o'clock, a little after the rising of the wintry sun, as it was too early yet for the Church of England folks to go to St. Sampson's, or for the Wesleyans to repair to Eldad Chapel, the road was almost deserted. Throughout that portion of the highway which separates the first from the second tower, only