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After that she was more than pleased, but careful not to show it. They used to walk home together, and sometimes did not go the straight road, but went round by the frith and looked at Einar's ship lying out at her moorings, swaying with the tide. One day, looking at the ship there, Gudrid asked him again what his adventure was, and whether anything was settled.
Files of marines boarded every American ship in the harbor, tore down the colors, and flung two hundred and fifty seamen into the foul holds of a prison hulk. There they were kept, half-dead with thirst and hunger while their vessels, uncared for, had stranded or sunk at their moorings. Scores of outrages as abominable as this were on record in the office of the Secretary of State.
In the night between October 6th and 7th, 1571, about the same hour that the Christian fleet weighed anchor at Cephalonia, the Turks had left their moorings in the harbor of Lepanto. While Don John, baffled by the winds and waves, was beating off the Curzolarian Isles, the Pacha was sailing down the gulf before a fair breeze.
Stenhouse continued to nurse his moorings against the onslaughts of the ice during the rest of April and the early days of May. The break- away from the shore came suddenly and unexpectedly on the evening of May 6: "May 6, 1915. Fine morning with light breezes from east-south- east.... 3.30 p.m. Ice nearly finished. Sent hands ashore for sledge- load. 4 p.m.
Next morning the A.D.C. hurried round again almost before Hart was out of bed, and this time with the most sensational news the Firefly had been boarded as she lay at her moorings by foreign friends of the rebels, carried up stream, and burnt. Both her European engineers had mysteriously disappeared.
But they had hardly jumped down on the beach before Christy Passford opened the cabin door of the yacht, and crept out with the utmost care. As Captain Carboneer blew his whistle, a mile below the moorings of the Bellevite, an occasional response came from the shore. Everything was remarkably quiet on the river, though at long intervals a steamer passed on its way up or down the stream.
A watery moon showed up the various warships at anchor dim grey formless shapes, marked by blurred lights. "What do you say?" he asked, turning to Tommy. "Shall we run in here and pick up some moorings? Before we go any further I want to hear Lyndon's part of the story, and then we all three shall know exactly where we are.
At last I caught sight of what I made sure was it a fine large vessel just casting off her moorings. The tafferel was green. Three masts yes, that must be it and the gilt figure-head of Hercules. To be sure, it had a three-pronged pitchfork in its hand instead of a club; but that might be my uncle's mistake, or perhaps Hercules sometimes varied his weapons.
These words were the last spoken by the grief-stricken old mariner, who in the plenitude of his manhood would have scorned the idea of openly giving way to emotion. His officers sat by him until he quietly slipped his moorings.
Somers asked. "Yes, sir," replied the midshipman. "If there's anything wrong, good luck to you," sounded the cool voice of Lieutenant Commander Mayhew, from the gunboat's rail. "Thank you, sir." No sooner had the moorings been cast loose from than Eph sounded the slow speed ahead bell.
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