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She looked out from under the gun, as though expecting to find him coming to see him somewhere on this stricken plain. As she did so she saw the young surgeon, who had stayed to help the wounded gunner, stumbling and lurching towards the gun, hands clasping his side, and head thrust forward in an attitude of tense expectation, as though there was a goal which must be reached.
That, too, as we know, she had found locked, and then, as she turned to retrace her steps, she was stricken spellbound by something which she saw upon the bed. It was nothing less than a widow's costume, comprising a dress, bonnet, and vail, together with a wig of short, curling red hair! Yes, Mrs.
Curious to know whether this prostrate figure was the one impressible man of the whole capital who had been stricken insensible by the terrors revealed to him, and whose form had been placed in the car by the charioteer, from motives of humanity, I followed the procession. It turned into Leadenhall-market, and halted at a public-house. Each driver dismounted.
It was pathetic and disheartening to see people refusing to be protected, the sick refusing to be relieved, all stricken with fear, yet inviting death by disobeying the Inglesi. Kalamoun was hopeless; yet twenty-four hours earlier Fielding had fancied there was a little light in the darkness.
No good deed, no act of self-denial to soften the pangs of a stricken conscience. Before him, everything seemed dark, mysterious, awe-inspiring, despairing; for aught he knew, a just chastisement awaited him. He had toiled for gold; he had obtained it. What a man soweth that shall he also reap.
Seeing him dumb and stricken, the Duke continued: "Now, for all that you deserve a hanging for your insolence, I am willing that you should come by no hurt so that you answer truthfully such questions as I have for you." Peppino's grotesque figure was doubled in a bow. "I await your questions, glorious lord," he answered.
His grandeurs were stricken valueless: they seemed to fall away from him like rotten rags. The procession moved on, and still on, through ever augmenting splendours and ever augmenting tempests of welcome; but to Tom Canty they were as if they had not been. He neither saw nor heard. Royalty had lost its grace and sweetness; its pomps were become a reproach. Remorse was eating his heart out.
The court were stricken with astonishment. Fanny was led towards the witness-box; there was a buzz of admiration and of pity as she passed along. Captain Hartley beheld her he clasped his hands together. "Gracious heavens! my own Fanny!" he exclaimed aloud. He sprang forward he stood by her side her head fell on his bosom. "My lord!
He thrust out a hand as though to find Rockwell's, and there was a gratitude and an appeal in the pressure of his fingers which went to Rockwell's heart. "All right, Chief. I'll have him here," Rockwell answered briskly, but with tears standing in his eyes. Ingolby had, as it were, been stricken out of the active, sentient, companionable world into a world where he was alone, detached, solitary.
Yet that unhappy Prince, with despair and humiliation gnawing at his heart, broken now beyond all hope, stricken in his fortune as sorely as in his love, was fleeing with a few devoted followers through the darkness. He passed through Kohara at daybreak of the second morning after the battle had been lost, and stopping only to change horses, galloped off to the north.
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