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Glenarvan and John Mangles went at the sides of the wagon, ready to lend any assistance the fair travelers might require, and Paganel and Robert brought up the rear. All went well till they reached the middle of the Wimerra, but then the hollow deepened, and the water rose to the middle of the wheels.
Mulrady was doing well enough to be carried over; his convalescence was rapid. At one o'clock, they all seated themselves on the raft, still moored to the shore. John Mangles had installed himself at the starboard, and entrusted to Wilson a sort of oar to steady the raft against the current, and lessen the leeway.
And his voice was deep and low like a growl. "Joseph," said Miss Mangles, "growls over his meals like a dog." The remark about the weather and the women was addressed to a man who leaned against the rail. Indeed, there was no one else near and the man made no reply. He was twenty-five or thirty years younger than Mr. Mangles, and looked like an Englishman, but not aggressively so.
"This is even worse than I anticipated," said Miss Mangles, watching the hotel porters in a conflict with Miss Netty Cahere's large trunks. "What is worse, Jooly?" "Poland!" replied Miss Mangles, in a voice full of foreboding, and yet with a ring of determination in it, as if to say that she had reformed worse countries than Poland in her day. "I allow," said Mr.
"What do you want?" asked Will Halley, when the strangers stepped on the poop of his ship. "The captain," answered John Mangles. "I am the captain," said Halley. "What else do you want?" "The MACQUARIE is loading for Auckland, I believe?" "Yes. What else?" "What does she carry?" "Everything salable and purchasable. What else?" "When does she sail?" "To-morrow at the mid-day tide. What else?"
"That's as may be, Jooly," replied her brother, "but I take it that the hearts of the women go to the Senatorska." For Miss Mangles, on the advice of a polyglot concierge, had walked down the length of that silent street, the Franciszkanska, where the Jews ply their mysterious trades and where every shutter is painted with bright images of the wares sold within the house.
"Oh!" "She'll accept," opined Joseph P. Mangles, lugubriously. "Is it a great honor?" "There are different sorts of greatness," Joseph replied. "What is the Massachusetts Women Bachelors' Federation?" Joseph Mangles did not reply immediately. He stepped out into the road to allow a lady to pass.
There were four outposts, under Woodgate, Theobald, Lippert, and Mangles. The attack at 2.15 on a cold dark morning began at the post held by Woodgate, the Boers coming hand-to-hand before they were detected. Woodgate, who was unarmed at the instant, seized a hammer, and rushed at the nearest Boer, but was struck by two bullets and killed. His post was dispersed or taken.
Paganel asked John Mangles whether the raft could not follow the coast as far as Auckland, instead of landing its freight on the coast. John replied that the voyage was impossible with such an unmanageable craft. "And what we cannot do on a raft could have been done in the ship's boat?" "Yes, if necessary," answered John; "but we should have had to sail by day and anchor at night."
And so saying, John Mangles handed to Lady Helena the fragment of paper on which was legible the sacred words; and these young women, whose trusting hearts were always open to observe Providential interpositions, read in these words an indisputable sign of salvation. "And now let us go to the 'oudoupa!" cried Paganel, in his gayest mood. "It is our castle, our dining-room, our study!
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