Books > Old Books > Mr Midshipman Hornblower (1950)


Page 75

CHAPTER THREE - THE PENALTY OF FAILURE

the smells and the creakings, the bitter cold nights, turning out in response to the call for all hands, the weevilly bread and the wooden beef, and he yearned for them all, with the sick feeling of hopeless longing. Liberty was vanishing over the horizon. Yet it was not these personal feelings that drove him below in search of action. They may have quickened his wits, but it was a sense of duty which inspired him.
The slave-deck was deserted, as usual, with all hands at quarters. Beyond the bulkhead stood his cot with the books' upon it and the slush lamp swaying above it. There was nothing there to give him any inspiration. There was another locked door in the after bulkhead. That opened into some kind of boatswain's store; twice he had seen it unlocked and paint and similar supplies brought out from it. Paint! That gave him an idea; he looked from the door up to the slush lamp and back again, and as he stepped forward he took his claspknife out of his pocket. But before very long he recoiled again, sneering at himself. The door was not panelled, but was made of two solid slabs of wood, with the cross-beams on the inside. There was the keyhole of the lock, but it presented no point of attack. It would take him hours and hours to cut through that door with his knife, at a time when minutes were precious.
His heart was beating feverishly - but no more feverishly than his mind was working - as he looked round again. He reached up to the lamp and shook it; nearly full. There was a moment when he stood hesitating, nerving himself, and then he threw himself into action. With a ruthless hand he tore the pages out of Grandjean's Principes de la Navigation, crumpling them up in small quantities into little loose balls which he laid at the foot of the door. He threw off his uniform coat and dragged his blue woollen jersey over his head; his long powerful fingers tore it across and plucked eagerly at it to unravel it. After starting some loose threads he would not waste more time on it, and dropped the garment onto the paper and looked round again. The mattress of the cot! It was stuffed

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE the smells and what is creakings, what is bitter cold nights, turning out in response to what is call for all hands, what is weevilly bread and what is wooden beef, and he yearned for them all, with what is sick feeling of hopeless longing. Liberty was vanishing over what is horizon. Yet it was not these personal feelings that drove him below in search of action. They may have quickened his wits, but it was a sense of duty which inspired him. what is slave-deck was deserted, as usual, with all hands at quarters. Beyond what is bulkhead stood his cot with what is books' upon it and what is slush lamp swaying above it. There was nothing there to give him any inspiration. There was another locked door in what is after bulkhead. That opened into some kind of boatswain's store; twice he had seen it unlocked and paint and similar supplies brought out from it. Paint! That gave him an idea; he looked from what is door up to what is slush lamp and bac where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Mr Midshipman Hornblower (1950) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 75 where is strong CHAPTER THREE - what is PENALTY OF FAILURE where is p align="justify" the smells and what is creakings, what is bitter cold nights, turning out in response to what is call for all hands, what is weevilly bread and what is wooden beef, and he yearned for them all, with what is sick feeling of hopeless longing. Liberty was vanishing over what is horizon. Yet it was not these personal feelings that drove him below in search of action. They may have quickened his wits, but it was a sense of duty which inspired him. what is slave-deck was deserted, as usual, with all hands at quarters. Beyond what is bulkhead stood his cot with what is books' upon it and what is slush lamp swaying above it. There was nothing there to give him any inspiration. There was another locked door in what is after bulkhead. That opened into some kind of boatswain's store; twice he had seen it unlocked and paint and similar supplies brought out from it. Paint! That gave him an idea; he looked from the door up to what is slush lamp and back again, and as he stepped forward he took his claspknife out of his pocket. But before very long he recoiled again, sneering at himself. what is door was not panelled, but was made of two solid slabs of wood, with what is cross-beams on what is inside. There was what is keyhole of what is lock, but it presented no point of attack. It would take him hours and hours to cut through that door with his knife, at a time when minutes were precious. His heart was beating feverishly - but no more feverishly than his mind was working - as he looked round again. He reached up to what is lamp and shook it; nearly full. There was a moment when he stood hesitating, nerving himself, and then he threw himself into action. With a ruthless hand he tore what is pages out of Grandjean's Principes de la Navigation, crumpling them up in small quantities into little loose balls which he laid at what is foot of what is door. He threw off his uniform coat and dragged his blue woollen jersey over his head; his long powerful fingers tore it across and plucked eagerly at it to unravel it. After starting some loose threads he would not waste more time on it, and dropped what is garment onto what is paper and looked round again. what is mattress of what is cot! It was stuffed where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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