United States or Timor-Leste ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"'Regret to say children missing. Supposed left Inistow Cove Tossell's boat Saturday night. Boat found ashore Clatworthy Beach. Search parties along coast. Will report any news. Chichester." "When did you get this, ma'am, making so bold?" "At nine this morning. If you look, you will see the telegram was handed in at 8.37, and received here at 8.50 is it not? The sender is a Mr.
Folks have been trying it for hundreds of years, and it'll never be done." "And 'Olmness? 'As Miss Sally bought 'Olmness too?" "No; he wouldn't part with it, for some reason. But father rents the grazing from him; same as before, when th' island belonged to Inistow Farm. There's a tale " But Tilda was not to hear the tale, for just now Mrs.
He was terribly put out when it changed hands; but now he says 'Thank the Lord' when he talks of it." "Changed hands?" Tilda found herself echoing. "Yes. Inistow has belonged to Miss Sally these five years now. I thought maybe you'd be knowing all about her and Sir Miles coming like this and inquiring for them.
But Miss Sally and Parson Chichester sat talking in the best parlour at Inistow, and still sat on while the level sunset shone blood-red through the geraniums on the window-ledge, and faded and gave place to twilight. They had heard the children's story; had turned it inside out and upside down, cross-questioning them both; and had ended by dismissing them for the time.
The children, as they left the parlour, had been intercepted by Mrs. Tossell with the information that tea was ready for them in the kitchen. "Wot, another meal?" said Tilda. Twenty-four hours ago a world that actually provided too much to eat would have been inconceivable by her. But already the plenty of Inistow was passing from a marvel into a burden.
He nodded, and having left his order with the coachman, climbed by a footpath to a rise of the moor whence he commanded a view of the cross-roads on his right, and on his left of the road running northward like a pale ribbon across the brown heather. Neither vehicle nor horseman was in sight. Nor, though he waited more than half an hour, did any appear coming from the direction of Inistow.
"What does it mean?" she asked. "I don't know about these things." "Why it's Sir Miles's coat-of-arms; of the Chandons, that is. Inistow Farm used to belong to them belonged to them for hundreds of years, right down to the time Miss Sally bought it. Father farmed it under them for thirty years before that, and his father, and his grandfather, and his great-greats back ever so long.
And the boat was necessary now, for as the Inistow men launched her and sprang aboard the leading hounds realised that their quarry could not be headed, or that their remaining strength would scarcely carry them back to shore, and gave up the chase.
Hucks slowly, after another perusal of the telegram, "I don't conclude much from it; but from my knowledge of the gal-child, I jolly well conclude that they're no more drowned than you or me. They've just made another bolt for it, and the shipwrecked boat's no more than a blind." "They were comfortable enough at Inistow Farm. Why should they want to bolt?" Miss Sally urged.
He had struck the Inistow road, when his ear caught the beat of hoofs approaching at a gallop through the darkness. He quartered and cried hullo! as the rider drew close. On the moors it was unusual to meet a rider at night; nobody rode so hard unless for a doctor, and no doctor dwelt in this direction. "Hullo, friend!" "Hullo!"
Word Of The Day