United States or Cambodia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The garments of some hung about them in rags that fell short even of Tilda's easy standard. The spectacle fascinated her. For the moment it chased fear out of her mind.
All such are welcome to make use of what accommodation they find here. Casual visitors will kindly respect the intention with which this house is kept open, and will leave the place strictly as they find it." From the next room came the sound of a window opened and a shutter thrown wide, and Tilda's voice announced "Well, I never! Beds!" "Beds?" "Beds and sheets and blankets."
Now Tilda shifted hers across, and they pushed together; but all in vain. The tide steadily forced them sideways. They were drifting past the westernmost end of the Island, and the Island still lay more than a mile off. For the next ten minutes neither spoke; and it may stand to Tilda's credit that she uttered no reproach at all.
It touched Tilda's eyelids, and she opened them at once, stared, and relaxed her embrace. "Awake?" asked Mrs. Mortimer's voice from the shadow above the locker. "Well, I'm glad of that, because I want to get to the stove. Sardines," said Mrs. Mortimer, "you can take out with a fork; but, packed as we are, when one moves the rest must follow suit. Is the boy stirring too?"
For two nights he had haunted Tilda's dreams; and she could have picked him out, even in the twilight, from among a thousand. She gave another gasp, and with that her presence of mind returned. He had not seen them; he was watching the barge. The angle of the store would still hide them if they tip-toed to the wharf gate. But they must be noiseless as mice; they must reach the road, and then
"When I call, run for yer life." But a minute two minutes passed, and the command did not come. Arthur Miles, posted by the bolt-hole, held his breath at the sound of voices without, by the waterside. The tones of one he recognised with a shiver. They were raised, and although he could not catch the words, apparently in altercation. Forgetting orders, he tip-toed across to Tilda's elbow. Mr.
Ashore the huddled crowd of riders watched the issue. The children watched with them; and while they watched a sharp, authoritative voice said, close above Tilda's ear "They won't reach him now. He'll sink before they get to him, and I'm glad of it. He's given us the last and best run of as good a season as either of us can remember eh, Parson?" Tilda looked up with a sudden leap of the heart.
It curved almost as smoothly as the slope of a crater, and shelved to a small semi-circular bay. There, on the edge of the tide, danced 'Dolph yelping; and there, knee-deep in water, facing him with lowered head, stood a magnificent stag yes, the stag of yesterday! When Arthur Miles caught at Tilda's arm and proclaimed this, at first she doubted.
Tilda's small body stiffened with a gasp, 'Miles Chandon' the name had sounded on her hearing distinct as the note of a bell. There was no mistake: it hummed in her ears yet. Or was it the blood rushing to her ears as she sat bolt upright in the darkness, listening, breathing hard? Sir Elphinstone, for some reason, had not answered his sister.
And while the crew of the Evan Evans strained their ears the hymn grew audible 'Nearer and nearer still, We to our country come; To that celestial Hill, The weary pilgrim's home! . . . Arthur Miles had clutched Tilda's hand. She herself gazed and listened, awe-struck.
Word Of The Day