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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Uncle Bernac A Memory of the Empire"


But sorrow clears from the mind of youth like the tarnish of breath upon
glass, and who could carry a heavy heart upon so lightfooted a horse and
through so sweet an air? The white glimmering road wound over the downs
with the sea far upon the left, and between lay that great salt-marsh
which had been the scene of our adventures. I could even see, as I
fancied, a dull black spot in the distance to mark the position of that
terrible cottage. Far away the little clusters of houses showed the
positions of Etaples, Ambleterre, and the other fishing villages, whilst
I could see that the point which had seemed last night to glow like a
half-forged red-hot sword-blade was now white as a snow-field with the
camp of a great army. Far, far away, a little dim cloud upon the water
stood for the land where I had spent my days--the pleasant, homely land
which will always rank next to my own in my affections.
And now I turned my attention from the downs and the sea to the hussars
who rode beside me, forming, as I could perceive, a guard rather than an
escort.


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