Hartford peered cautiously over the edge of the shelf. He'd set his forces far enough back in the canyon that the entire Axenite column would be encased. "Sir, this is Felix," the radio said. "Do you agree, sir, that I should place one squad in reserve till the rest get through the gully?"
. . . . . . . .
I shook my head.
Then, just as the cur-tain rose on the sec-ond scene of the last act, the sound of a pis-tol’s re-port fell on the air. At first it was thought to have been part of the play; then a man was seen to leap from the Pres-i-dent’s box and fall down up-on the stage, with a knife in his hand, call-ing out the Lat-in words “Sic sem-per ty-ran-nis,” which mean “Thus al-ways to ty-rants.”
what went on on the west-ern side. Lee’s ar-my was the best of all the foe. Af-ter cross-ing the Po-to-mac the two ar-mies looked for each oth-er. Lee, fac-ing east, was com-ing from the west of the town of Get-tys-burg, and Meade was tak-ing his post on Cem-e-ter-y Ridge, at the south. It was not thought that a bat-tle, by all, would then be-gin, but “Meade’s Cav-al-ry,” led by Bu-ford, came up-on Lee’s front guard on Ju-ly 1, 1863, and they fought. The Un-ion men were forced back and had loss-es. Night then came on, and by that time both sides, each with a-bout 80,000 men, were in the moon-light up-on the ground. The troops were in good trim and of high cour-age. On the next day the foe car-ried works at both ends of the Un-ion line. The third day the Un-ion ar-my got back the lost ground on its right. The foe then made a fierce charge and broke through the cen-tre of the Un-ion ar-my, but were at last put down and sent back. The end of the charge was the end of the bat-tle and point-ed to the end of the war. In this fight Lee lost 36,000 men. With those he lost the first time he made a thrust at the North, and these, 90,000 of some of the best troops in the world laid down their lives for the cause they held dear.
“Mounted, and equipped, and provisioned for a few days, the little troop started about noon on their expedition against the Harpes, leaving their women and a faithful old negro servant with a few guns, to defend the temporarily fortified domicil at McBee’s. The trail of the Harpes was soon struck south of the road leading to the Lick; and after pursuing it a few miles, a spot was reached where the outlaws had evidently dispersed a large drove of buffaloes, with the design, doubtless, of so tramping down and tangling the wild grass and shrubbery as to render it difficult, if not impossible, to discover their course of flight. The pursuing party understood the stratagem, and though a little puzzled at first, they soon regained the trail, which, however, forked off at a little distance—the party dividing, followed each for a mile or two when the elliptical forks again united. After this they had no difficulty in keeping the path. At nightfall they halted and camped on the bottom of the western shore of Pond River, a considerable tributary of Green River. Their simple repast despatched, and horses secured, they retired to rest—the earth their bed, a wallet their pillow, and their only covering the broad canopy of heaven. That night they slept with an eye half open, but nothing occurred, save a smart dash of rain, to require particular notice.
He pressed the unsealing tabs, slipped his hand into the vacant chest of the suit and pulled out the hand mike. "This is Herrell McCray," he said, "calling the Jodrell Bank."
"History, indeed, you dunderhead!" said I, much disgusted. "Can't you see a joke when 'tis under your nose?"
Georges eyed the fallen ruler, who stirred, groaned lugubriously. "I hope you know what you're doing," Georges said. "But I'm with you in any case." He straddled the prone body, plucked a curved knife from the low table and prodded the Aga Kaga's Adam's apple. The monarch opened his eyes.
There were man-y themes to speak of at that time, such as how to bring back the States which had left the Un-ion and what to do with those who led the re-volt.
Not for the world would a young creature like Iris have let such words escape her, or such thoughts pass through her mind. Whether at the bottom of her soul lies any uneasy consciousness of an oppressive presence, it is hard to say, until we know more about her. Iris sits between the little gentleman and the “Model of all the Virtues,” as the black-coated personage called her. I will watch them all.
CHAPTER IX.详情 ➢
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