Johnstone of the Border
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Оглавление
Bindloss Harold. Johnstone of the Border
CHAPTER I. THE SUMMONS
CHAPTER II. A PAINFUL MEMORY
CHAPTER III. THE SOLWAY SHORE
CHAPTER IV. APPLEYARD
CHAPTER V. SWEETHEART ABBEY
CHAPTER VI. ON CRIFFELL HILL
CHAPTER VII. THE GRAY CAR
CHAPTER VIII. THE ROWAN'S LIGHT
CHAPTER IX. IN THE DARK
CHAPTER X. THE YOUNG OFFICER
CHAPTER XI. THE SIGNAL
CHAPTER XII. A FALSE ALARM
CHAPTER XIII. THE WRECK
CHAPTER XIV. A FAIR ALLY
CHAPTER XV. A BARGAIN
CHAPTER XVI. TRAILING THE MOTORCYCLE
CHAPTER XVII. THE MATCHBOX
CHAPTER XVIII. A CONFERENCE AT SEA
CHAPTER XIX. A WARNING
CHAPTER XX. THE WHAMMEL BOAT
CHAPTER XXI. THE LOST PAPER
CHAPTER XXII. STAFFER'S MESSENGER
CHAPTER XXIII. AN EVENING AT APPLEYARD
CHAPTER XXIV. THE BUOYED CHANNEL
CHAPTER XXV. A CLUE
CHAPTER XXVI. TIGHTENING THE MESHES
CHAPTER XXVII. THE RECKONING DAY
CHAPTER XXVIII. A WILD RIDE
CHAPTER XXIX. WHEN THE TIDE TURNED
CHAPTER XXX. THE NET
CHAPTER XXXI. UNEXPECTED HAPPINESS
Отрывок из книги
A week after leaving Sable Lake, Andrew and Whitney stood one night on Portage Avenue, Winnipeg. The air was hot and oppressive, as it often is in the prairie city during late summer, and smooth sidewalks and roadway, wet with heavy rain, glistened like ice in the lamplight. The downpour had now slackened to a scattered splashing of big, warm drops, and thunder rumbled in the distance. At one place, the imposing avenue was blocked by a crowd through which the street-cars crept slowly with clanging bells. The crowd seemed bent on holding its ground, but there was not much jostling, and its general air was one of stern interest rather than excitement. The small dark figures that filled the gap between the towering buildings were significantly quiet, and where a ray of light fell across them, the rows of faces were all turned in one direction.
Andrew studied them as he stood on the outskirts of the throng. Human nature always interested him. He noticed first that these men were better dressed and looked more prosperous than the members of similar gatherings he had watched in the Old Country. It was, however, not altogether their clothes that conveyed the impression: there was a hint of self-confident optimism in their faces and bearing; though one could see that they were graver than usual. Their appearance was rather American than British, and although this was mainly suggested by certain mannerisms and the cut of their clothes, Andrew was conscious of a subtle difference he could not explain. For one thing, an English street crowd is generally drawn from one particular walk of life, and if units of different rank join it they stand apart and separate. This gathering in Winnipeg included men of widely different callings – farmers from the plains, merchants, artisans, clerks, and flour-mill hands – but they had, somehow, an air of common purpose and solidarity.
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"But as it turned out, you didn't take him. Were you much at Appleyard afterward?"
Whitney stood up and stretched himself. A rhythmic throb of engines stole out of the silence, and, some distance off, a yellow and a green light moved across the level sea. Overhead, the topsail cut black against the sky, and the water had grown more luminous in the eddying wake. To the east, a thin, silver moon was shining above the dim heights of Cumberland. Tiny ripples lapped the Rowan's side, but the breeze was faint and everything was still.
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