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When you are tempted to regard your feelings, ignore the matter altogether. Look in another place for evidence of your standing. How is your consecration? How is your faith? Are you all the Lord's? Do you still believe His promise? If you can say yes to these questions, you are still on victory's side, though you may not feel it. The will, not the feelings, is the controlling factor in life.
Yes, voices were coming from beyond and one was a woman's, level and cold and filled with scorn. There was no terror in it. It was Victory's. I turned the knob and pushed the door inward just in time to see Menelek seize the girl and drag her toward the far end of the apartment.
I could not help but notice that his eyes were much upon Victory, and I did not like it, for I knew the type of man he was. But as it would not be necessary ever to leave the girl alone with him I felt no apprehension for her safety. After the incident of the discussion of barbarians I thought that Victory's manner toward me changed perceptibly.
At daybreak the combined fleets were distinctly seen from the VICTORY's deck, formed in a close line of battle ahead, on the starboard tack, about twelve miles to leeward, and standing to the south. Our fleet consisted of twenty-seven sail of the line and four frigates; theirs of thirty-three and seven large frigates. Their superiority was greater in size and weight of metal than in numbers.
I put a bullet in the spine of the approaching lion and leaped to Victory's side. The door resisted my first efforts to swing it inward. Rusted hinges and swollen wood held it tightly closed. But at last it gave, and just as another lion mounted to the top of the stairway it swung in, and I pushed Victory across the threshold. Then I turned to meet the renewed attack of the savage foe.
"Quite a show," he said in the manner she had expected and approved. The glow of his cigarette wavered over firmly cut lips. "We've just come to New York," he continued. "I don't know any one here but Markue, do you?" Linda explained her own limitations. "The Victory's fine and familiar." She followed his gaze to where a winged statue with flying drapery was set on a stand.
With the first faint note out of distance flung, From the moment man hears the siren call Of Victory's bugle, which sounds for all, To his inner self the promise is made To weary not, rest not, but all unafraid Press on till for him the paean be sung. The song for the victor is sweet, is sweet Yet to the music a memory clings Of trampled nestlings, of broken wings, And of faces white with defeat!
O thou that art sprung from the Kata race, O thou that deservest the most regardful worship, O fierce one, O giver of victory, O victory's self, O thou that bearest a banner of peacock plumes, O thou that art decked with every ornament, O thou that bearest an awful spear, O thou that holdest a sword and shield, O thou that art the younger sister of the chief of cow-herds, O eldest one, O thou that wert born in the race of the cowherd Nanda!
Pollard, were the only persons left in the VICTORY's poop; the two midshipmen kept firing at the top, and he supplied them with cartridges. One of the Frenchmen, attempting to make his escape down the rigging, was shot by Mr. Pollard, and fell on the poop.
He owns that he needs one more rest, but his "duty was to go forth." He "expected to lay his weary bones quiet for the winter," but he is "proud of the call," and all gallant hearts were proud to own him as their chieftain. He bargains for one of the Victory's anchors to be at the bows before he arrives at Portsmouth. All his belongings are sent off on the 5th October.
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