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Before he could reply, the furious barking of a dog attracted Corrie's attention. He knew it to be the voice of Toozle.
Before it had made up its mind on this point, Corrie's eye alighted on it. "Hist!" exclaimed he, with a gesture of caution to his companions. "Look there! we've had nothing to eat for an awful time; nothing since breakfast on Sunday morning. I feel as if my interior had been amputated. Oh! what a jolly roast that fellow would make if we could only kill him."
The attacking party had been so sure of taking the people by surprise that they formed no plan of attack; but simply arranged that, at a given signal from their chief, a united rush should be made upon the church, and a general massacre ensue. As we have seen, Corrie's pistol drew forth the signal sooner than had been intended.
And Corrie seems to like him, too, since he has come to know him better. Besides, has he not saved my life, and Captain Montague's, and Corrie's? Corrie tells me that he is very sorry for the wicked things he has done, and he thinks that if his life is spared he will become a good man. Has he been very wicked, papa?" "Yes, very wicked.
The type of a Christian gentleman Carey and his first wife His second marriage The Lady Rumohr His picture of their married life His nearly fatal illness when forty-eight years old His meditations and dreams Aldeen House Henry Martyn's pagoda Carey, Marshman, and the Anglican chaplains in the pagoda Corrie's account of the Serampore Brotherhood Claudius Buchanan and his Anglican establishment Improvement in Anglo-Indian Society Carey's literary and scientific friends Desire in the West for a likeness of Carey Home's portrait of him Correspondence with his son William on missionary consecration, Buonaparte, botany, the missionary a soldier, Felix and Burma, hunting, the temporal power of the Pope, the duty of reconciliation Carey's descendants.
Poopy helped to accelerate their flight by giving vent to a cry of fear, and thereafter to a yell of delight, as, from her point of view, she recognised the well-known outline of Corrie's figure clearly defined against the sky. She ran after them in frantic haste; but she might as well have chased a couple of wild cats.
Soon after, the trio reached the same spot and stood for some time silently gazing upon the thick darkness within. A feeling of awe crept over them as they stood thus, and a shudder passed through Corrie's frame as he thought of the innumerable ghosts that might probably did inhabit that dismal place. But the thought of Alice served partly to drive away his fears and to steel his heart.
"And what is your plan?" inquired Alice, eagerly; for the child had unbounded belief in Corrie's ability to do almost anything he chose to attempt, and Corrie knew this, and was proud as a peacock in consequence. "I'll get up on my knees," said he, "and then, once on them, I can easily rise to my feet and hop to you, and free you." "What d'ye think, Alice?"
Bumpus's last cry before being smothered was, "Down with the black varmints!" and Corrie's last shout was, "Hooray!" Thus fell despite the undignified manner of their fall a couple of as great heroes as were ever heard of in the annals of war; not excepting even those of Homer himself!
Hunter, of Redcraigs, Corrie's father, had not been well one day, and a message had been sent to that effect to her. But Corrie was philosophic, and not unduly alarmed. "Papa makes such a work about himself," she said candidly to Mrs. Spottiswoode. "Very likely he has only taken lobster at supper, or his Jamaica rum has not agreed with him, and he is bilious this morning.
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