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For a moment I was almost paralized by fear; but my energy returned and I demanded a guide to accompany me in following his steps. The night was tempestuous but my bribe was high and I easily procured a countryman. We passed through many lanes and over fields and wild downs; the rain poured down in torrents; and the loud thunder broke in terrible crashes over our heads. Oh! What a night it was!

"It would look silly if we were all captured to-night. How they would laugh!" "We shouldn't laugh, though. I think we ought to keep an eye on things." "How are we to know? We are utterly without means of communication. Anything may happen in the night." Something happened then. It was half past seven in the evening. There were two enormous crashes outside the windows of the Hotel du Rhin.

The vision of Lady Gwendoline as he saw her last, the morning sunshine searching her fair English face and finding no flaw in it, rises for a second before him why, he does not know. Then a triumphal burst of music crashes out, and be is looking down once more upon Edith Darrell, in her white dress and coral ornaments, her dark hair and pink roses.

He lies so prostrate, motionless for upward of an hour, then slowly and heavily he rises. His face is calmer now; it is the face of a man who has fought some desperate fight, and gained some desperate victory one of those victories more cruel than death. He turns and goes hence. He crashes through the tall, dewy grass, his white face set in a look of iron resolution.

Two or three of those in front got off their horses and tried to make their way to the assistance of their comrades who were lying crushed under the mass of foliage, and of their leaders in the pit beyond. But now almost simultaneously two more crashes were heard, and a tree from each side fell upon them.

And "henceforth" it became after that. For two more days we carried on this most tiring of all kinds of fighting: for the infantry, hourly scraps with a watchful plucky foe; for the gunners, perpetual readiness to fire protective bursts should the enemy suddenly seek to shake our grip on this most fateful stretch of front; in addition to day and night programmes of "crashes" that allowed the gun detachments no rest, and at the same time demanded unceasing care in "laying" and loading and firing the guns.

Bang! go his guns, two miles away; there is a moment of eerie and uncomfortable silence uncomfortable because there is just a chance they might have altered their range and then, quite close by, over the wood where the battery is, come the crashes of the bursting shells. They sound like a Titan's blows on a gigantic kettle filled with tons of old iron.

Before Hermione could reply the Marchesino exclaimed: "Signorina, in the breast of an angel you have the heart of a lion! The sea will never harm you. How could it? It will treat you as it treats the Saint of your pool, San Francesco. You know what the sailors and the fishermen say? In the wildest storms, when the sea crashes upon the rocks, never, never does it touch San Francesco.

This is commonly termed a "forced landing," and in every sense of the word it is one. There is no pilot of any extensive flying experience who has not had to make a forced landing. Ninety out of a hundred are perfectly orderly safe landings; the odd ones are occasionally crashes. Incidentally it may be said that forced-landing practice by flying pupils is the most beneficial which may be imagined.

At the same instant three blows were heard, three crashes, three reports. It was the heart of Maria Remedios knocking at the door through the knocker. The house trembled with awful dread. Mother and daughter stood motionless as statues.