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

"Springhaven : a Tale of the Great War"

And as for Madam Cow, I
will beg her pardon, though my cane is hurt a great deal more than her
precious horns are. Behold me snap it in twain, although it is the only
handsome one I possess, because it has offended you!"
"Oh, what a pity! What a lovely piece of wood!" cried Dolly; and they
parted on the best of terms, after a warm vow upon either side that no
nasty politics should ever come between them.
But Carne was annoyed and discontented. He came to the edge of the
cliff that evening below his ruined castle; for there are no cliffs at
Springhaven, unless the headland deserves that name; and there he sat
gloomily for some hours, revolving the chances of his enterprise. The
weather had changed since the morning, and a chill November wind began
to urge the waves ashore. The sky was not very dark, but shredded with
loose grey vapours from the west, where a heavy bank of clouds lay under
the pale crescent of a watery moon. In the distance two British cruisers
shone, light ships of outlook, under easy sail, prepared to send the
signal for a hundred leagues, from ship to ship and cliff to cliff,
if any of England's foes appeared. They shone upon the dark sea, with
canvas touched by moonlight, and seemed ready to spring against the
lowering sky, if it held any menace to the land they watched, or the
long reach of water they had made their own.
"A pest upon those watch-dogs!" muttered Carne. "They are always
wide-awake, and forever at their stations.


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