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Updated: June 22, 2025
These were canoes headed across the stream, and instantly Donald turned his craft in the same direction, as though it belonged to the ghostly fleet. It was a terrible situation, and one in which the slightest mistake would prove fatal. Donald noticed Bullen's start on the discovery of their danger, and blessed him for the coolness with which he continued the noiseless dip of his paddle.
We quite took you for one of ourselves. No, the cheerfulness with which you bore your hardships, and your readiness to assist anyone, surprised us. You were so different from us all that we could not help wondering who you were; but I don't think any of us really suspected that you were Captain Bullen's son, till that fight.
Then it seemed to me that it was just the thing that Captain Bullen's son might be expected to do. You would naturally want to see fighting, but I did wonder how you managed to come back and get enlisted into the regiment. I remember, now, that I wondered a little the first night you joined. You were in uniform and, as a rule, recruits don't go into uniform for some time after they have joined.
Christie and I will take the smaller of these canoes, leaving the other, with all the Indians, for Mr. Bullen's service." "Go ahead, my boy; you are right. Good-bye, and God bless you!" answered the general, heartily. So in another minute Donald and his newly acquired friend had set forth on their long journey.
He might have been, if you had not done so well; but as it is, he cannot but be pleased that Captain Bullen's son should have so distinguished himself, even in the 32nd Pioneers, who have the reputation of being one of the best fighting regiments in all India." "Well, I hope so, Pertusal. At any rate, I am extremely glad I came.
Then, suddenly, swelling above the low weird music, came the voices of a score or more white-robed priests chanting: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord thy God is one God!" George Bullen's eyes were fixed upon the face of Apleon, and he noted the mocking, contemptuous smile that curled his lips at the language of the chant.
Now, however, that the idea had been mooted, the officers, as they went up and down the line, looked closer at Lisle than they had hitherto done; and all agreed that, in spite of his uniform and his colour, he was Captain Bullen's son. Ignorant of their suspicions, Lisle carried out his work, as usual, as a sub-officer. He shared the shelter tents of the men, and performed his duties regularly.
Besides the four Indians who paddled it, this canoe held a fifth, seated luxuriously in an object so unusual and startling that Donald almost uttered an exclamation at sight of it. "It could not be!" Donald rubbed his eyes and looked again. Yes, it was. There was no mistaking its shape or color. "Bullen's tub, as I'm a sinner!" muttered the young man, under his breath.
He walked to the door with him, again shook hands, but remained looking out in the darkness some time after Dick Bullen's tangled hair and broad shoulders had disappeared. Meantime, Uncle Billy had resumed his seat and was chuckling and reminiscent as he cleaned out his pipe.
I may be wrong, but it seems to me that I can see beneath it all the hand of a foreign enemy of England." "Supposing you were right, Mr. Bullen," Norgate said, "what is England but a foreign enemy of Ireland?" A light flashed for a moment in Mr. Bullen's eyes. His lip curled inwards. "Young man," he demanded, "are you an Englishman?" "I am," Norgate admitted. "You speak poorly, then.
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