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Owen down to supper, found himself free. He met Thatcher in the lower hall, muffled in astrakhan and swearing softly to himself because his carriage had been lost in the blizzard. "Well; how are things going with you, young man?" "Right enough. I'm tired and it's about bed-time for me." "Haven't got House Bill Ninety-five in your pockets have you?" asked Thatcher with a grin.
If any guest failed at the eleventh hour, Todd was asked to dine. Mrs. Todd and Maria came across in the evening, slipped in with a muffled knock, and were in the drawing-room by the time Miss Osborne and the ladies under her convoy reached that apartment and ready to fire off duets and sing until the gentlemen came up. Poor Maria Todd; poor young lady!
As it was nearly calm, we manned and armed four boats, two from the frigate, under the direction of her first lieutenant and my senior officer, and two from our ship, under my orders. We muffled our oars and pulled quietly in. The night was very dark and the navigation difficult, owing to the numerous coral reefs and small mangrove islands.
Fuselli's eyes followed the curves of his brilliantly-polished puttees up to the braid on his sleeves. "Parade rest!" shouted the lieutenant in a muffled voice. Feet and hands moved in unison. Fuselli was thinking of the town.
It leaves Hobart, at half-past seven P.M., and reaches Launceston a little before eleven the following morning. It was a cold, bleak night; but as the road was excellent, and I was well muffled up, with my feet in a bag, the time passed cheerily.
And from under the fog, immeasurably far below, there came the muffled sound of the mother sea, as if it were beating on the invisible floor of the world. "I say, that's rather uncanny, isn't it?" So uncanny did it seem to him that he felt that it called for remark. She looked at him with that faintly interrogative lifting of the eyebrows, which always seemed familiar to him.
In Christ's name, help...." The cry was broken off in the middle, muffled by the palm of a hand, and became a mutter of despair and horror: "M-p-p, maa...." Somebody stuffed a white pillow in the hole. Again all became quiet.
The clouds were drifting low, and there was not a star in the sky. An owl was hooting somewhere among the rocks, but no other sound, save the gentle sough of the wind, came to my ears. And then suddenly I heard it! From far away down the tunnel came those muffled steps, so soft and yet so ponderous. I heard also the rattle of stones as they gave way under that giant tread. They drew nearer.
In the leading canoe the Indians ceased paddling. The canoe lost momentum and drifted broadside to the current. The men were lifting something; something long and dark. There was a muffled splash, and the dark object disappeared. The canoemen picked up their paddles, and the canoe swung into its course and disappeared around a point.
With the cessation of the ringing hoofbeats the stillness had closed down upon the riders like a spell to break the which were to invite the wrath of the undying gods themselves. Other than the silken breathing of the horses, an occasional muffled thud or the jingle of a bridle-chain as one pawed the earth or tossed his head, they heard no sound. The unending hum of a living city was not there.
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