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This man stretched out his hand to seize Hugh, but before ever it fell upon his shoulder the bow twanged and Acour's retainer was seen whirling round and round, cursing with pain. In the palm of his hand was an arrow that had sunk through it to the feathers. "You are right; that knave shoots well," said the Count to Sir John, who made no answer.
Long time two of them stood between the gateway firs on a pleasant summer's afternoon and twanged and scraped their harmonious strings, till all the idle boys of the neighborhood gathered about them, listening with a grave and still delight.
Ten thousand bow-strings twanged on the air, and ten thousand arrows flew upward toward the sun.
It came to an end at last when she felt that she could bear no more. "What is it?" she forced herself to ask. "I haven't named it," he replied, putting down his violin. "Is is it yours?" "Of course. Why not?" Isabel came to the piano and took up the violin. "May I look at it?" "Certainly." She stroked the brown breasts curiously and twanged the strings as though it were a banjo. "What make is it?"
The dogs rushed at them, barking loudly but taking care to keep at a safe distance from their paws. The bears both raised themselves on their haunches. The Ostjak bows twanged and Godfrey fired. One of the bears rolled over, the other charged at his assailants. Godfrey fired his second barrel, then dropping his gun and grasping his spear, stood ready to meet the charge.
In that second of time Hal Masters' string twanged and his long arrow sped through the arbalister's throat. He dropped on the deck, with blood and curses pouring from his mouth. A moment later Nigel's sword and Badding's hammer had each claimed a victim and driven back the rush of assailants. The five were safe upon the deck, but it was hard for them to keep a footing there.
Storm the works! shouted Hardkoppig Peter. Fire the mine! roared stout Rising Tantarar-ra-ra! twanged the trumpet of Antony Van Corlear; until all voice and sound became unintelligible, grunts of pain, yells of fury, and shouts of triumph mingling in one hideous clamor.
A little lyre lay beside him in the grass, and now and again he twanged on it dolorously, and he tried to weave himself garlands from the flowers that grew around him; but he knew not the art, and ever and anon he felt for his button-hole, wherein to stick a lily or the like. But he had no button-hole.
Upon its deck, under a canopy enwreathed with laurels and oranges, and adorned with tapestry, sat Apollo, attended by the Nine Muses, all in classical costume; at the helm stood Neptune with his trident. The Muses executed some beautiful concerted pieces; Apollo twanged his lute.
“Wait till I get my banjo—you don’t mind, do you, Mr. Upton?” “No. I’d like to hear it.” So Westby hastened to his room and returned, bearing the instrument; and all the other boys gathered round, except Collingwood, who stood sheepishly off at one side. Westby twanged the strings and then to the accompaniment began,—
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