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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"A Man of Mark"


"Can we do it?" she gasped.
"Please God," said I; "a clear quarter of an hour will do it, and they
ought to take that to finish off the colonel." For I had little doubt
of the issue of that _melee_.
On we sped, and already we could see the twinkle of the waves through
the thinning trees. Five hundred yards more, and there lay life and
liberty and love!
Well, of course, I might have known. Everything had gone so smoothly
up to now, that any student of the laws of chance could have foretold
that fortune was only delaying the inevitable slap in the face. A plan
that seemed wild and risky had proved in the result as effectual
as the wisest scheme. By a natural principle of compensation, the
simplest obstacle was to bring us to grief. "There's many a slip,"
says the proverb. Very likely! One was enough for our business.
For just as we neared the edge of the wood, just as our eyes were
gladdened by the full sight of the sea across the intervening patch of
bare land, the signorina gave a cry of pain and, in spite of my arm,
fell heavily to the ground. In a moment I was on my knees by her side.
An old root growing out of the ground! That was all! And there lay my
dear girl white and still.


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