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Updated: May 28, 2025
The wind at the end was the morning breeze entering through the open porthole and touching his face before the schooner could swing to the chilly gust. Yes! And all this rational explanation of the fantastic made it only more mysterious and weird. There was something daemonic in that dream.
The sample which he had had through the porthole had not prepared him for the magic of it. The ship swam in a vast bowl of the purest blue on an azure carpet flecked with silver. It was a morning which impelled a man to great deeds, a morning which shouted to him to chuck his chest out and be romantic.
Clearly, the block of stone supported by the iron pins formed a porthole, the pins allowing the stone to be swung inward. The old, rusted one had been unused for decades, but the port in front of the projector had been repaired and lubricated. The comparison between the two gave Rick his clue. "This is a sniper nest built by the Confederates," he guessed. "Probably to protect the mine.
"Madam," he said, "the quartermaster here tells me that the sea in this locality is infested with flying fish, who, like moths, fly straight for any light, and he is afraid that if you leave your porthole open they will dive in upon you during the night." If he had said that the sea was infested with flying mice, his statement could not have been more effective.
"I am sorry that you have been put to so much inconvenience," Colonel John answered civilly. The words, the tone, might have reassured him, if he had not suspected a devilish irony. Even when Colonel John proceeded to direct one of the men to open a porthole and admit more air, he derived no comfort from the attention. But steady! Colonel John was speaking again.
We saw the fine fellows leaping to carry the blockhouse, every man determined to be first in making a breach. They filled the ditch. This was the instant for which Croghan had waited. He opened the porthole and unmasked his exactly trained cannon. It enfiladed the assailants, sweeping them at a distance of thirty feet; slugs and grapeshot hissed, spreading fan rays of death!
If the townsfolk of Tarascon could have seen the great Tartarin, lying in his commode drawer, in the pale, dismal light which filtered through the porthole, amongst the stale smell of cooking and wet wood, the depressing odour of the ferry boat.
Willis whispered to the sergeant, who, beckoning to two of his men, crept hurriedly down the port ladder to the lower deck. In a moment Benson followed down the starboard or lighted side. Willis listened breathlessly above, heard what he was expecting a sudden scuffle, a muffled cry, a faint click, and then silence. He peeped through the porthole.
In hers, Miss Ross sat by the open porthole reading and re-reading the mail that had reached her at Aden. Bombay, December 13th. My Dear Jan, It was a great relief to get your cable saying definitely that you were sailing by the Carnduff. Misfortunes seem to have come upon us in such numbers of late that I dreaded lest your departure might be unavoidably delayed or prevented.
Simply enough: During the night I had in some way a way still unknown to me opened a porthole below the water-line; and those in charge of the vessel seemed powerless to close it. Every now and then I could hear parts of the ship give way under the strain.
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