For although he was nearing the haven now of threescore years
and ten, his throat and heart were so sea-worthy that he could very
sweetly have outroared them all. But while he was preparing just to
prove this, if encouraged, and smiling very pleasantly at a friend who
said, "Strike up, Admiral," he was called from the room, and in the
climax of the roar slipped away for a moment, unheeded, and meaning to
make due apology to his guests as soon as he came back.
CHAPTER LXI
DISCHARGED FROM DUTY
While loyalty thus rejoiced and throve in the warmth of its own
geniality, a man who was loyal to himself alone, and had no geniality
about him, was watching with contempt these British doings. Carne had
tethered his stout black horse, who deserved a better master, in a dusky
dell of dark-winged trees at the back of the eastern shrubbery. Here the
good horse might rest unseen, and consider the mysterious ways of men;
for the main approach was by the western road, and the shades of evening
stretched their arms to the peaceful yawn of sunset. And here he found
good stuff spread by nature, more worthy of his attention, and
tucking back his forelegs, fared as well as the iron between his teeth
permitted.
Then the master drew his green riding-coat of thin velvet closer round
him, and buttoned the lappet in front, because he had heavy weight in
the pockets. Keeping warily along the lines of shadow, he gained a place
of vantage in the shrubbery, a spot of thick shelter having loops of
outlook.
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