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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Uncle Bernac A Memory of the Empire"

To go before the new Emperor was one thing and
to be dragged before him another. On the whole, it seemed to me that my
best course was to wander inland, in the hope of finding some empty barn
or out-house, where I could pass the night unseen and undisturbed. Then
in the morning I should consider how it was best for me to approach my
uncle Bernac, and through him the new master of France.
The wind had freshened meanwhile into a gale, and it was so dark upon
the seaward side that I could only catch the white flash of a leaping
wave here and there in the blackness. Of the lugger which had brought
me from Dover I could see no sign. On the land side of me there seemed,
as far as I could make it out, to be a line of low hills, but when I
came to traverse them I found that the dim light had exaggerated their
size, and that they were mere scattered sand-dunes, mottled with patches
of bramble. Over these I toiled with my bundle slung over my shoulder,
plodding heavily through the loose sand, and tripping over the creepers,
but forgetting my wet clothes and my numb hands as I recalled the many
hardships and adventures which my ancestors had undergone.


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