Foxholme Hall, and Other TalesKingston, William Henry Giles
General
Foxholme Hall, and Other Tales
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Adventure stories; Boys -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Children's stories; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction
I observed that Cousin Peter met Mr Strafford in the most frank and
cordial manner, and at once entered with him into a discussion as to the
steps which should next be taken for the recovery of the child. I did
not hear all that was to be done. I knew, however, that a number of the
most intelligent and trustworthy men in the neighbourhood were engaged.
Some were sent off to all the places on the coast whence boats could get
off, to ascertain if any had gone across the channel, and to examine any
which might be going, while other parties were, as soon as it was
daylight, to scour the forest in every direction. We boys, under Sam
Barnby, were, much to our satisfaction, to engage in this latter
service. Sir Hugh and the rest of the family, overcome with fatigue,
were compelled to go to bed; but all night long people were coming and
going with messages, showing that a very vigilant and active search was
being carried on. Neither Cousin Peter nor Mr Strafford, however, went
to bed, as they had taken upon themselves the direction of the search.
Indeed, unless Everard Worsley had succeeded at once in getting away
from the neighbourhood, it seemed scarcely possible that he should now
be able to make his escape.
STORY ONE, CHAPTER FIVE.
Long before daybreak we boys were up, called by Sam Barnby, and, having
breakfasted, and by his advice, filled our pockets with bread and ham
and tongue and brawn, set off while the first streaks of dawn were still
in the sky, to commence our search through the forest. The sky was
cloudless, the stars shining brightly at first, but one by one they
disappeared as the light streaming through the leafless trees on the one
hand, seemed to be rolling back the gloom of night on the other. The
air was pure, but keen as razor-blades, as Sam observed, and would have
saved us shaving, if we had had beards to shave. The crisply frozen
grass crackled under our feet as we trod rapidly over it, with
difficulty restraining our inclination to sing and shout out, so high
were our spirits raised by the exhilarating atmosphere.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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