Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 23, 2025
This stage direction being obeyed, the most effective tableau conceivable was presented, and the climax was reached when the Count, after a brief dumb-show intended to indicate how vain were Lord Tulliwuddle's efforts to master his emotion, spoke these words in the most thrilling accents he could muster: "Fair ladies and brave men of Hechnahoul!
Your perfectly natural doubts will be laid at rest when I tell you that I hope to be accompanied by the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg." The Baron could no longer contain himself. "Himmel! Hurray! My dear friend, I vill go mit you to hell!" "That's very good of you," said Essington, "but you mistake my present destination. I merely wish your company as far as the Castle of Hechnahoul."
Accordingly the portraits of four centuries of Tulliwuddles beheld their representative appear in the very castle of Hechnahoul with his trouser-legs capering beneath an ill-hung petticoat of tartan. And, to make matters worse in their canvas eyes, his own shameless laugh rang loudest in the mirth that greeted his entrance. "Ze garb of Gaul!" he announced, shaking with hilarity.
"Maybe you were too far gone yourself, Duncan, to notice it, and the ladies would just think it was gallantry; but I saw it in his voice and his legs oh, just a wee thingie, nothing to speak of." "Surely you are mistaken!" cried Miss Gallosh. "Wasn't it only excitement at finding himself at Hechnahoul?" "There's two kinds of excitement," answered the oracle.
For centuries your heroic race has adorned the halls and trod the heather of Hechnahoul, and for centuries more we hope to see the offspring of your lordship and some winsome Celtic maid rule these cataracts and glens!"
He looked up with a start, and perceived Dugald, his jailor, gazing upon him with an expression of indescribable sagacity. "The master will be sending me with his car to tell the folks at Hechnahoul," added Dugald. Still the Baron failed to comprehend the exchange of favors suggested by his jailor's sympathetic voice. "Go, zen!" he muttered, and bent his head.
Raising his eyes after the profound bow which the Count considered appropriate to his character of plenipotentiary, he beheld at last the object of his mission; and whether or not she was the absolutely peerless beauty her father had vaunted, he at once decided that she was lovely enough to grace Hechnahoul, or any other, Castle.
"You don't think anybody will suspect that you aren't really me?" "Does any one up at Hechnahoul know you?" "No." "And no one there knows me. They will never suspect for an instant." His lordship assumed a look that would have been serious, almost impressive, had he first removed his eye-glass. Evidently some weighty consideration had occurred to him.
They were now running along the brink of a glimmering loch, the piled mountains on the farther shore perfectly mirrored; a tern or two lazily fishing; a delicate summer sky smiling above. All at once Count Bunker started "That must be Hechnahoul!" said he. The Baron looked and beheld, upon an eminence across the loch, the towers and turrets of an imposing mansion overtopping a green grove.
Up, up, up it soared, over the trees; high above the topmost turret of the castle, and still on and on and ever upwards till it became a mere speck in the zenith, and at last faded utterly from sight. Then, and not till then, did the pent-up applause break out into such a roar of cheering as Hechnahoul had never heard before in all its long history.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking