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Here they were within reach of the foot-walk they had been travelling, and yet entirely screened from observation. So far George's untrained ear had discovered nothing, and he marvelled at his companion's sharpness, but before they had been there a minute, he heard the soft patter-patter of bare feet coming along the path.
I did not hear the dripping on the roof, nor the patter-patter of the drops from the ceiling, nor the beating of the storm against the glass. My candles blew in the draught, and shadows crossed and recrossed the page. Do you remember the book's closing words?
As they came into the station square, all smelling of hay and the rain, the deluge slowly withdrew its forces, recalling them gradually so that the drops whispered now, patter-patter pit-pat. A pigeon hovered down and pecked at the cobbles. Faint colour threaded the thick blotting-paper grey. Old Fawcett himself had come to the station to meet them. Why had he felt it to be an occasion?
The bell-like tinkle of water out of sight was the only sound until I heard a patter-patter of webbed feet coming along the road. A flock of geese were moving homeward, followed by a woman, whose feet were as bare as theirs, and whose eyes were fixed upon her distaff and spindle. She would not have noticed me had not the birds, true to their ancient reputation, given the alarm.
Musing in this strain, while the rain went patter-patter on the windowpanes, Ezra saw a strange sight in the fireplace yes, right among the embers and the crackling flames Ezra saw a strange, beautiful picture unfold and spread itself out like a panorama. "How very wonderful!" murmured the young man. Yet he did not take his eyes away, for the picture soothed him and he loved to look upon it.
All was still around them, save for the gentle patter-patter of the rain on the trees of the ramparts: and from very far away the echo of laughter and music from the distant revellers. And then the cry of the sea-mew thrice repeated from just beneath the window. Blakeney and Marguerite awoke from their brief dream: once more the passionate lover gave place to the man of action.
Jessie never, to the end of her life, could forget the morning that letter reached them. It was a wet, dark November morning, and she had been lying awake for a long time listening to the patter-patter, swish-swish of the rain pouring against her window.
The gray horses were running low, with noses and tails outstretched. The spread-out riders closed in a mass and followed at terrific speed. The crowd behind seemed to grow silent. We heard the patter-patter of barefoot horses ascending the long, low hill. One rider on a sorrel horse fell behind.
Musing in this strain, while the rain went patter-patter on the window-panes, Ezra saw a strange sight in the fireplace, yes, right among the embers and the crackling flames Ezra saw a strange, beautiful picture unfold and spread itself out like a panorama. "How very wonderful!" murmured the young man. Yet he did not take his eyes away, for the picture soothed him and he loved to look upon it.
"There's somebody coming," were Ben's next words. Sure enough drawing closer every minute they could hear a soft patter-patter coming down a jungle-trail and evidently, by the sound, heading for the camp. "Who can it be?" exclaimed Frank in a low tone, not daring even to mention the wild hope that surged in his heart.
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