United States or Denmark ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Beresford's position was now a very faulty one, as the woods completely hid the movements of the enemy, and a high hill, which they had at once seized, flanked the whole allied position and threatened its line of retreat. When the morning of the 16th dawned the armies were numerically very unequal.
Peter," he said, "what does it all mean? Are you sure that it is a genuine document, Colonel? Terence is capable of anything by way of a joke." "It is undoubtedly genuine, O'Grady. It is dated from Lord Beresford's quarters, and signed by his lordship himself as commander-in-chief of the Portuguese army. How it comes about beats me as much as it does you.
Maurice remained at Hunsdon, where he was now master, and spent his days in the library writing letters, or trying to make plans for his future, and it was then that the letter with his lost message to Mrs. Costello was sent off. Yet the space between Mr. Beresford's death and his funeral was to his heir a tedious and profitless blank.
D'you wonder she hates me?" Beresford's smile was winning. "Is it because she hates you that she wants you to come to supper to-night?" "It's because she's in debt to me or thinks she is, for of course she isn't and wants to pay it and get rid of it as soon as she can.
Before a roaring fire Cuffy lay on a buffalo robe and steamed. Within an hour he was snuggling a contented nose up to Beresford's caressing hand. Fagged out, the travelers went to bed early. Long before daybreak they were up. The blizzard had died down during the night. It left behind a crusted trail over which the dogs moved fast.
The public is not interested in, and will neither purchase nor hang on its walls anything but a winsome child, a beautiful child, a pathetic child, or a picturesquely ragged and dirty child. All this is in explanation of the foregoing remarks about Mrs. Beresford's ingenuity, thrift, and genius in selecting types to paint.
"Don't get up," said Morse. "You've been hurt." "Hurt?" Beresford's puzzled gaze wandered to the prisoner. A flash of understanding lit it. "He asked me to light his pipe and when I turned he hit me with a club," the battered man whispered. "About how I figured it." "Afraid I'm done in." "Not yet, old pal. We'll make a fight for it," the Montanan answered. "I'm sick." The soldier's head sank down.
At eight bells Mr. Grey touched by Dodd's clemency, and brimful of zeal, reported a light in Mrs. Beresford's cabin. It had been put out as usual by the master-at-arms; but the refractory one had relighted it. "Go and take it away," said Dodd. Soon screams were heard from the cabin. "Oh! mercy! mercy! I will not be drowned in the dark."
"Up Peace River, after Pierre Poulette, fellow who killed Buckskin Jerry." Tom took in Beresford's lean body, a gauntness of the boyish face, hollows under the eyes that had not been there when first they had met. There had come to him whispers of the long trek into the frozen Lone Lands made by the officer and his Indian guide.
As to the mule, she continued her wild gallop into the French lines, where she was soon surrounded and captured. The boys were greatly vexed at the loss of their faithful black, but they had little time for grieving, for an hour after they rode off with General Beresford's division.
Word Of The Day