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Camping in the dark after a thirty-mile march is wild work such a commotion of hails and calls, such searching for one's camp, and for the watering-place for horses. The hour of lamplight is precious, and I am near the end of it now. MUCHADIN, Monday, May 7th. A day seldom passes on which one does not receive fresh proof that the world contains foolish people.
Not until they came into the fitful glare of the firelight were they seen, and then quick hails came from the sentries on the wharf and the "Albemarle's" decks. But the light on the shore aided the adventurers by showing them the position of the ram. They dashed up alongside, amid a shower of bullets that seemed to fill the air.
Then voices answered with hails from different parts, and Ralph's next movement was to crawl forward again to the very edge of the precipice, look over, and seek for a place where he might perhaps descend.
I knew he meant to be the last to leave his ship, so I swarmed up as quick as I could, and those damned lunatics up there grab at me from above, lug me in, drag me along aft through the row and the riot of the silliest excitement I ever did see. Somebody hails from the bridge, "Have you got them all on board?" and a dozen silly asses start yelling all together, "All saved!
Van Wyk's jetty answered the hails from the ship; ropes were thrown and missed and thrown again; the swaying flame of a torch carried in a large sampan coming to fetch away in state the Rajah from down the coast cast a sudden ruddy glare into his cabin, over his very person. Mr. Massy did not move.
We all know the stately pile in Holborn, once Meekings’, now Wallis’s, where all the world and his wife go to buy. Mr. Wallis hails from Stowmarket, and the man who fits up London shops in the most tasty style, Mr.
Slowly, over and over, Deadwood Dick, outlaw, road-agent and outcast, read the notice, and then a wild sardonic laugh burst from beneath his mask a terrible, blood-curdling laugh, that made even the powerful animal he bestrode start and prick up its ears. "Five hundred dollars reward for the apprehension and arrest of a notorious young desperado who hails to the name of Deadwood Dick!
And now perceive each blade and meadow flower, That mortal foot to-day it need not dread." Kundry washes "the dust of his long wanderings" from his feet, and looks up at him with earnest and beseeching gaze. Gurnemanz recognizes the sacred spear, hails him as the King of the Grail and offers to conduct him to the great hall where the holy rites are once more to be performed.
"'Tis time to mix the cattle food," says the girl. And from the kitchen window she can see the traveller come out to his horse and make ready to start. He drives out of the yard and down the road at a trot. "Now!" says she to herself, and races off after him. Olof can see her as she runs how her breast heaves as she comes up with the cart and hails the driver.
He is uncertain how to translate the extreme unconcern with which she hails him. Did she hear him call, or did she not? That is the question. And Stephen very properly feels that more than the fate of a nation depends upon the solution of this mystery. "Oh! here you are at last," he says, in a distinctly aggrieved tone. "I have been calling you for the last hour. Didn't you hear me?"
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