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The camelopardists vaulted into their saddles, adjusted their legs in the boot-like gambadoes, and slapped the reins to head their giraffu toward the ravine where the endgame would be played. Hartford rode at the head of the band, Takeko beside him. The others were dispersed at wide interval, a precaution against the veeto-platform's swooping over the horizon to surprise them en route. As they left Yamamura, the women and children of the village were leaving from the other side, together with the men too old to go out with the guerrillas. Yamamura was being abandoned until the outcome of battle made itself known.
“Claire—my darlint!” ses he, and thin again they are silint.
He’s lord of all de fiel’s an’ woods,
“But the revolver that was found at Ealing? Mrs. Havering could not have placed it there?”
Presently the motion of the copter changed. He knew the ship was descending. There were more violent swayings, as if from wind gusts deflected by something large and solid. Jorgenson even heard deep-bass rumblings like sea upon a rocky coast. Then there were movements near him, a rope went around his waist, a loading-bay opened and he found himself lifted and lowered through it.
The slaughter was terrible, and, being reduced to extremity, we offered to capitulate on honourable terms; at this there was a lull in the action and time to look about. We were so encumbered by our dead and wounded that a regular formation was almost impossible, but this we set about righting with all possible haste. Our Colonel sat straight and erect in the midst of us, in earnest talk with the French Major-General, who was in command. Lieutenant Butler was near me, and O'Reilly I saw attending to the removal of some of the wounded. The men, half-dressed, and many of them covered with blood, were resting as if the affair were entirely over, and already were talking and joking with each other in their usual way as if our lives did not hang on the answer to our terms. At length word was brought that our offer was refused, and we must surrender at discretion. Our chiefs whispered a moment, then Colonel MacDonnell rose to his full height in his stirrups and called in a voice deep with feeling, "Officers and gentlemen of the Company of St. James! They refuse us the only terms which honourable men can accept without disgrace. Officers, Gentlemen, All! I call on you to fight while a charge of powder and ball is left to living or to dead!" And the cheer we gave him carried our answer back to our ungenerous foe.
1.It was quite true—though I had at first found it difficult to believe—that Delane must once have been a reader. He surprised me, one night, as we were walking home from a dinner where we had met, by apostrophizing the moon, as she rose, astonished, behind the steeple of the “Heavenly Rest,” with “She walks in beauty like the night”; and he was fond
He took wry pleasure in imagining what was going on aboard Jodrell Bank at that moment. At least not all the bewilderment was his own. They would be utterly baffled. As far as they were concerned, their navigator had been on the bridge at one moment and the next moment gone, tracelessly. That in itself was a major puzzle; the only way off an FTL ship in flight was in the direction called "suicide." That would have been their assumption, all right, as soon as they realized he was gone and checked the ship to make sure he was not for some reason wandering about in a cargo hold or unconscious in a closet after some hard-to-imagine attack from another crewman. They would have thought that somehow, crazily, he had got into a suit—there was the suit—and jumped out of a lock. But there would have been no question of going back to look for him. True, they could have tracked his subspace radio if he had used it. But what would have been the good of that? The first question, an all but unanswerable one, would be how long ago he had jumped. Even if they knew that, Jodrell Bank, making more than five hundred times light-speed, could not be stopped in fewer than a dozen light-years. They could hardly hope to return to even approximately the location in space where he might have jumped; and there was no hope of reaching a position, stopping, casting about, starting again—the accelerations were too enormous, a man too tiny a dust-mote.