United States or Gambia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Gagged by me in the casting-room." "Well done, you! Got all your things, I see, under your arm? Wait two seconds while I grab my money. Never mind the rumpus upstairs there's nobody outside to help them; and the gate's locked, if there was." He darted past me up the stairs. I could hear the imprisoned officers shouting for help from the top windows.
"Oh, we've never met, but I knew you were both here, and I'm Mary Maxwell, Mary Grant's best friend. I'll go in and find her and Prince Vanno, now the gate's unlocked. I thought perhaps Mary was sending me out her jewel-case, as I see you have it in your hand." This was a shot in the dark.
To your Samson was given supernatural power, and when he broke the withes, and slew the thousands with the jawbone of an ass, and carried away the gate's of the city upon his shoulders, you were amazed and also awed, for you recognized the divine source of his strength.
But mark if, when the time be sped, Thou fail'st, thy surety dies instead. His life shall buy thine own release; Thy guilt atoned, my wrath shall cease." The sun sinks down the gate's in view, The cross looms dismal on the ground The eager crowd gape murmuring round. His friend is bound the cross unto. Crowd guards all bursts he through; "Me! Doomsman, me," he shouts, "alone!
Presently Rory returned. "Mary, jewel, jist pelt aff, lek a good chile, an' see if the wee gate's shut." Mary shot off at full speed; and he continued gravely, "Dhrapped aff at the dead hour o' the night, seemin'ly. God rest his sowl! O, Tammas! iv we'd only knowed!" "Ay, or if I had only spoken to him! He must have got there yesterday morning.
It was too late. Concessions made in fear might be withdrawn on the return of safety. Marius and Cinna joined their forces. The few troops in the pay of the Senate deserted to them. They appeared together at the gate's of the city, and Rome capitulated. There was a bloody score to be wiped out.
We had come to a lonely farm-house, its roofs moss-grown and sunken, the grass knee-high about it. There was hardly a sign of life about the place, though I could see an aged man smoking a pipe peacefully in the shade of an apple tree at the back. Everything wore an air of melancholy, desertion and loneliness. My companion lifted the gray gate's rusty latch.
How long he had been there could not be told, but suddenly a sound of voices close by roused him completely. "I tell you, man, there's no danger at all! That bottle of whisky will make old Joe sleep till midnight, and the little gate's ajar, and everybody off to the match. Just help me up and I'll spring back the fastening and get in through the side window.
"The gate's creaking, he'll find us and beat her." And before we had time to run out on to the stairs we heard a drunken shout and a shower of oaths at the gate. Shatov let me into his room and locked the door. "You'll have to stay a minute if you don't want a scene. He's squealing like a little pig, he must have stumbled over the gate again. He falls flat every time."
She was there already; sitting far back at the end of one of the narrow wooden side benches with the shadow of the gate's moss-grown roof and of the big cypress above it partly screening her, her shrinking position evincing a desire to escape general observation as clearly as her pale face and nervously drumming hand betrayed a state of extreme agitation.
Word Of The Day