In the Track of the Troops
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Robert Michael Ballantyne. In the Track of the Troops
Chapter One. A Tale of Modern War. Reveals the Explosive Nature of my Early Career
Chapter Two. Is Still More Explosive than the First
Chapter Three. An Interview with Men in Power
Chapter Four. A Day with the Torpedoes
Chapter Five. Terrible Torpedo Tales, Followed By Overturned Plans
Chapter Six. Turk and Bulgarian—A Wrestling Match and a Dispute
Chapter Seven. The Black Clouds Gather
Chapter Eight. Treats of Torpedoes, Terrible Catastrophe, Unexpected Meetings, and Such Like
Chapter Nine. In which Lancey is Tried, Suspected, Blown Up, Captured, Half-Hanged, Delivered, and Astonished
Chapter Ten. Involves Lancey in Great Perplexities, which Culminate in a Vast Surprise
Chapter Eleven. Refers to two Important Letters, and a Secret Mission
Chapter Twelve. My First Experience of Actual War, and my Thoughts Thereon
Chapter Thirteen. Shews what Sometimes Happens in the Track of Troops
Chapter Fourteen. Tells More of what Occasionally Happens in the Track of Troops
Chapter Fifteen. Simtova—New Views of War—Lancey Goes to the Front, and Sees Service, and Gets a Scare
Chapter Sixteen. Lancey gets Embroiled in Troubles, and Sees some Peculiar Service
Chapter Seventeen. In which some Desperate Enterprises are Undertaken
Chapter Eighteen. Treats of one of our Great Ironclads
Chapter Nineteen. Describes a Stirring Fight
Chapter Twenty. Treats of War and some of its “Glorious” Results
Chapter Twenty One. More of the Results of War
Chapter Twenty Two. The Fall of Plevna
Chapter Twenty Three. Woe to the “Auburn Hair!” After the Battle—Prowling Villains Punished
Chapter Twenty Four. Farewell to Sanda Pasha—A Scuffle, and an Unexpected Meeting
Chapter Twenty Five. Describes a Wreck, and the Triumph of Love
Chapter Twenty Six. Some More of War’s Consequences
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Much to my surprise, I found that neither Nicholas Naranovitsch nor Bella nor my mother would consent to witness my experiments with dynamite that day.
As my old chum approached to greet me on the lawn before breakfast the day following, I could not help admiring his fine, tall, athletic figure. I don’t know how it is, but I have always felt, somehow, as if I looked up at him, although we were both exactly the same height—six feet one without our boots. I suppose it must have been owing to his standing so erect, while I slouched a little. Perhaps my looking up to him mentally had something to do with it.
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“But that is no explanation, dear,” returned my mother; “at least not a distinctive one, for guns burst sometimes, and soap-bubbles burst, and eggs burst occasionally.”
“Bella,” said Nicholas, who spoke English perfectly, though with a slightly foreign accent, “never interrupt a philosopher. Allow Jeff to proceed with his definition.”
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