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Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge), 1825-1900

"Springhaven : a Tale of the Great War"


But a further decrease was in store for him now. As the moon arose, the
wind got higher, and chopped round to one point north of west, raising a
perkish head-sea, and grinning with white teeth against any flapping of
sails. The schooner was put upon the starboard tack as near to the wind
as she would lie, bearing so for the French coast more than the English,
and making for the Vergoyers, instead of the Varne, as intended. This
carried them into wider water, and a long roll from the southwest
crossing the pointed squabble of the strong new wind.
"General," cried Charron, now as merry as a grig, and skipping to the
door of Carne's close little cabin, about an hour before midnight, "it
would afford us pleasure if you would kindly come on deck and give us
the benefit of your advice. I fear that you are a little confined down
here, and in need of more solid sustenance. My General, arise; there is
much briskness upon deck, and the waves are dancing beautifully in the
full moon. Two sail are in sight, one upon the weather bow, and the
other on the weather quarter. Ah, how superior your sea-words are
to ours! If I were born an Englishman, you need not seek far for a
successor to Nelson, when he gets shot, as he is sure to be before very
long."
"Get out!" muttered Carne, whose troubles were faintly illuminated by a
sputtering wick. "Get out, you scoundrel, as you love plain English. Go
direct to the devil--only let me die in peace.


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