For the semaphore, and when day was out the
beacon-lights, had glowed along the backbone of the English hills, and
England called every Englishman to show what he was made of.
"That will do. Enough of that, John Bull!" Defying his native land,
Carne shook his fist in the native manner. "Stupid old savage, I shall
live to make you howl. This country has become too hot to hold me, and
I'll make it hotter before I have done. Here, Orso and Leo, good dogs,
good dogs! You can kill a hundred British bull-dogs. Mount guard for
an hour, till I call you down the hill. You can pull down a score of
Volunteers apiece, if they dare to come after me. I have an hour to
spare, and I know how to employ it. Jerry, old Jerry Bowles, stir your
crooked shanks. What are you rubbing your blear eyes at?"
The huge boar-hounds, who obeyed no voice but his, took post upon the
rugged road (which had never been repaired since the Carnes were a power
in the land), and sat side by side beneath the crumbling arch,
with their long fangs glistening and red eyes rolling in the silver
moonlight, while their deep chests panted for the chance of good fresh
human victuals. Then Carne gave his horse to ancient Jerry, saying,
"Feed him, and take him with his saddle on to the old yew-tree in half
an hour. Wait there for Captain Charron, and for me. You are not to go
away till I come to you. Who is in the old place now? Think well before
you answer me.
Pages:
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673