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"Not my own," said the Caterpillar; adding, as usual, "My governor's, you know." "Warde hasn't a soft job ahead of him," said Desmond. "Soft or hard, he'll handle it his own way." Desmond went out, wondering what had become of Scaife. Scaife was in his room, talking to Lovell senior, who had spent a fortnight with Scaife's people In Scotland, fishing and grousing.
Septimus kept wiping his forehead. "I can't stand this much longer," said Warde, in a hoarse whisper. "Well hit, sir! Well hit!" The Eton cheering became frantic. After nearly an hour's pawky, uninteresting play, the Eton captain suddenly changed his tactics. His "eye" was in; now or never let him score. A half-volley came down from the pavilion end a half-volley and off the wicket.
Most probable is it that this article of accusation does not refer to any imprisonment, real or supposed, at Middleham, in 1469, but to Clarence's invasion of England in 1470, when Edward's state, person, and life were jeopardized by his narrow escape from the fortified house, where he might fairly be called "in straite warde;" especially as the words, "after procuring great commotions," could not apply to the date of the supposed detention in Middleham, when, instead of procuring commotions, Clarence had helped Warwick to allay them, but do properly apply to his subsequent rebellion in 1470.
But Desmond had seen it played, had heart his father praise it as the most fascinating of card-games, and had determined to learn it at the first convenient opportunity. None the less Warde's words still echoed in his ear. "I think we ought to give Warde a chance," he said. "You don't mean to say you were taken in by him?" said Lovell, contemptuously.
Warde tells me they expect great things of you at Oxford." Uncle and nephew were alone, after dinner. John had noticed that the hardships endured in Manchuria and Thibet had left scars upon the traveller. His hair was white, he looked an old man; one whose wanderings in wild places must perforce come soon to an end. "Uncle," said John. "I want to chuck Oxford." "Eh?"
You see that all the tests are not in the handbook, and that is the trouble. Wherever a scout goes he bumps into tests which the very wise men who made the handbook never dreamed of. To pass a test is one thing. To stand a test is something else. Little Warde Hollister knew of the great test that awaited him.
It is a sad, unhappy quarrel! "But I must describe our circle to you. First, I should tell you that I have the honor to sit at the Captain's table, and on his left hand a Miss Ewart sitting on his right. Our set consists of the Captain, Judkins the right and left-hand passengers as aforesaid Col. Preston, Mrs. Preston and the three Misses Preston. Mr. Stone, Col. Stewart, Miss Warde, Mr.
Warde eyed the big fellows shrewdly, as if measuring weapons. He confounded some by asking them to dine with him. At dessert he would talk of sport, or games, or politics everything, in fine, except "shop." The more worthy came away from these pleasant evenings with rather a hangdog expression, as if they had been receiving goods under false pretences.
"I guess the picture's the principal thing," Roy said despairingly. "The principal thing is to wait a day or so," said Warde; "and see what we can find out. It looks bad, that's sure. It's his picture as far as I can see. I don't see how we're going to take his measurement; we don't want to make him suspicious." "It's funny how he never speaks about his past," said Roy.
Like another famous soldier, Frederick the Great, who first won his fame in this very war, he was fond of music and took lessons on the flute. He also did his best to improve his French; and when Warde came back the two friends used to go to the French theatre. Wolfe put his French to other use as well, and read all the military books he could find time for.
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