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Updated: June 26, 2025
As Sir Leicester basks in his library and dozes over his newspaper, is there no influence in the house to startle him, not to say to make the very trees at Chesney Wold fling up their knotted arms, the very portraits frown, the very armour stir? No.
When the Dedlocks were about to ride out from Chesney Wold in the king's cause, she is supposed to have more than once stolen down into the stables in the dead of night and lamed their horses; and the story is that once at such an hour, her husband saw her gliding down the stairs and followed her into the stall where his own favourite horse stood.
An account of the Expedition for the survey of the rivers Euphrates and Tigris, carried on by order of the British Government, in the years 1835, 1836, and 1837; preceded by geographical and historical notices of the regions situated between the Nile and the Indus, with fourteen maps and charts, and ninety-seven plates, besides numerous woodcuts, has just appeared in London, in four large volumes, from the pen of Lieutenant-Colonel Chesney, R.A., F.R.S., &c., commander of the Expedition.
The green, green woods of Chesney Wold, the noble house, the pictures of his forefathers, strangers defacing them, officers of police coarsely handling his most precious heirlooms, thousands of fingers pointing at him, thousands of faces sneering at him.
As for Tom Chesney, it was an aim with him to write out his account of daily events while they were still fresh in his mind. He was afraid many of the little details might be forgotten if he delayed; and in the end those were what would give most of the charm to the narrative of the scout doings. The storm had passed on, and above them they saw the stars peeping out once more.
They sold it, however, for a trifling sum, and the dealer who bought it disposed of it as an original to Sir Lucius Chesney. On his return to England, hearing for the first time of the robbery, Sir Lucius took the painting to Lamb and Drummond and discovered how he had been tricked. Meanwhile Hawker and his companion quarreled and separated.
Kingdon leaped forward, snugged the ball under his arm, and followed by Joel tried to find a hole inside left end. But the hole was not there, and the ball was instantly in the center of a pushing, grinding mass. "Down!" No gain. Story, worming his way through the jumble, clapped his hands. Chesney was already stooping over the ball.
He somewhat resembled Archibald Chesney, one of airy fairy Lilian's suitors. Like Archibald, the stranger was tall and eminently gloomy in appearance. His hair was of a rare blackness; his eyes were dark a little indolent, a good deal passionate smouldering eyes! His eyebrows were arched, which gave him an air of melancholy protest against the world in general.
You have put the case in a perfectly plain way, and according to the literal fact; and that being the case, you are not to be trusted." "Perhaps you may remember that I expressed some anxiety on this same point when we spoke at night at Chesney Wold?" "Yes," says Mr. Tulkinghorn, coolly getting up and standing on the hearth. "Yes.
"A perfectly idle man. A mere amateur." Sir Leicester seemed to approve of this even more. He hoped he might have the good fortune to be at Chesney Wold when Mr. Skimpole next came down into Lincolnshire. Mr. Skimpole professed himself much flattered and honoured. "Mr.
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