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Four summers had gone by since John Blaine's death yet in that comparatively brief space of time, his widow appeared to have aged ten years or more. Now bent, infirm, a chronic invalid, she did not look as if she would long survive him. The world goes on just the same no matter whose heart is breaking, and time flies so quickly that the happenings of a decade seem only of yesterday.
I thought of Clement Blaine's friends, my own Fleet Street circle, and shifted uncomfortably in my chair. "As it is, the boot may be rather on the other leg, and she may be of some service to you. But in any case, I want you to know each other, because you are a good chap, and will interest her, I know; and because she is of the bigger Britain and will interest you.
He dared not turn to Blaine's relief. He did not know yet if the sheaf thrown him would fit his own machine gun. But first he must dip, circle, come up underneath and try his luck. As has been said, Orry was no novice. He had flown at the front for months as one of the Lafayette Escadrille. Before that he had worked his way up in aerial mechanics in the United States and also here in France.
I'd better drop in ahead of him with Blaine's Twenty Tears. I telegraphed f'r territory, got it, and telegraphed to stop you." "You did it. When did you come down?" "Last night, six o'clock." Albert was getting warmer and better-natured. "Well, I'm here; what are you going t' do with me?" "I'll use you some way.
"I cautioned the relieving guard that if they had a word to say to any one they'd follow the first lot into cells. It don't do to have it known that elephants break loose that easy." "Good!" "Subsequently, acting on instructions from Your Highness, I searched the cellar of Mr. Blaine's house on the hill, Chamu the butler holding a candle for me." "What did he see?
Blaine's glance was raised to the galleries he must have been struck with the uniform sombreness of the appearance of the embanked multitude of ladies, whose dark attire was peculiarly appropriate, forming, as it did, a kind of mourning frame around the living picture which was presented on the floor.
"Say, Fritzy," to the snarling German at his feet, who fairly writhed at his bounds and gag, "your folks think I'm off after those English or Yankee schwein! Savy?" But here a sudden change came over the scene. The Bleriot which Erwin was now piloting, though far in the upper air, was seen to be whirling round and returning, apparently to Blaine's rescue.
When in a conversation with Conkling, I mentioned Blaine's remark, he said, "Do you believe one word of that?" I said, "Yes, I believe Mr. Blaine." He said with emphasis, "I don't." Subsequent events strengthened Mr. Conkling in his opinion, but those events did not change my opinion of Mr. Blaine's integrity of purpose in the conversations of which I have spoken.
From Blaine's head blood was flowing from a flesh wound somewhere up under his thick mop of short curly hair. His pulse, however, was beating lively. As for Erwin, no visible wounds were apparent, yet he lay there deathly pale while some of his clothing had been torn by fragments of the exploding bomb. Of Buck Bangs there was no sign.
Blaine's assurance that we should not be harmed "this time," but must "get into line," he looked up at me with a significant steadiness of eye. "President Woodruff," he said, "has been praying.... He thinks he sees some light.... You are authorized to say that something will be done." I asked no question. His gaze conveyed assurance, but forbade inquiry.
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