large/8432/henrydunbar_1309_librivox_64kb_mp3/henrydunbar_30_braddon_64kb_31
large/8432/henrydunbar_1309_librivox_64kb_mp3/henrydunbar_30_braddon_64kb
English
8432
The train by which he travelled stopped at every station; and, though the journey between Shorncliffe and Rugby was only to last an hour, it seemed almost interminable to this impatient traveller, who was eager to stand upon the deck of Messrs. ——'s electric steamers, to feel the icy spray dashing into his face, and to see the town of Dover, shining like a flaming crescent against the darkness of the night, and the Calais lights in the distance rising up behind the black edge of the sea. THE TRAIN BY WHICH HE TRAVELLED STOPPED AT EVERY STATION AND THOUGH THE JOURNEY BETWEEN SHORNCLIFF AND RUGBY WAS ONLY TO LAST AN HOUR IT SEEMED ALMOST INTERMINABLE TO THIS IMPATIENT TRAVELER WHO WAS EAGER TO STAND UPON THE DECK OF MESSRS BLANK'S ELECTRIC STEAMERS TO FEEL THE ICY SPRAY DASHING INTO HIS FACE AND TO SEE THE TOWN OF DOVER SHINING LIKE A FLAMING CRESCENT AGAINST THE DARKNESS OF THE NIGHT AND THE CALAIS LIGHTS IN THE DISTANCE RISING UP BEHIND THE BLACK EDGE OF THE SEA
ul travellers, and the heads of sleepy passengers rolling and jolting against the padded sides of the carriage. "My eyes are not what they used to be," he said, with a good-tempered laugh, when he went back to Arthur Lovell. "I didn't succeed in getting a glimpse of my old friend Henry Dunbar." CHAPTER XXX. STOPPED UPON THE WAY. Mr. Dunbar leant back in the corner of his comfortable seat, with his eyes closed. But he was not asleep, he was only thinking; and every now and then he bent forward, and looked out of the window into the darkness of the night. He could only distinguish the faint outline of the landscape as the train swept on upon its way, past low meadows, where the snow lay white and stainless, unsullied by a passing footfall; and scanty patches of woodland, where the hardy firs looked black against the glittering whiteness of the ground. The country was all so much alike under its thick shroud of snow, that Mr. Dunbar tried in vain to distinguish any landmarks upon the way.  CHAPTER THIRTY OF HENRY DUNBAR THIS IS A LIVER BOX RECORDING ALL LIVERBOX RECORDINGS ARE IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN FOR MORE INFORMATION OR TO VOLUNTEER PLEASE VISIT LIVERBOX DOT ORG RECORDING BY EMMA JOYCE HENRY DUNBAR BY MARY ELIZABETH BRADEN CHAPTER THIRTY STOPPED UPON THE WAY MISTER DUNBAR LEANT BACK IN THE CORNER OF HIS COMFORTABLE SEAT WITH HIS EYES CLOSED BUT HE WAS NOT ASLEEP HE WAS ONLY THINKING AND EVERY NOW AND THEN HE BENT FORWARD AND LOOKED OUT OF THE WINDOW INTO THE DARKNESS OF THE NIGHT HE COULD ONLY DISTINGUISH THE FAINT OUTLINE OF THE LANDSCAPE AS THE TRAIN SWEPT ON UPON ITS WAY PAST LOW MEADOWS WHERE THE SNOW LAY WHITE AND STAINLESS UNSULLIED BY A PASSING FOOTFALL AND SCANTY PATCHES OF WOODLAND WHERE THE HARDY FIRS LOOKED BLACK AGAINST THE GLITTERING WHITENESS OF THE GROUND THE COUNTRY WAS ALL SO MUCH ALIKE UNDER ITS THICK SHROUD OF SNOW THAT MISTER DUNBAR TRIED IN VAIN TO DISTINGUISH ANY LANDMARKS UPON THE WAY
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