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"It ought'a be dark," protested Billy, "but I'll try it anyway." He lifted the rabbit foot to his face and breathed some words upon it. Then in measured tones he recited: "I can't conceive of anything," said Captain Weaver, smiling with something of pride at the Admiral and Captain Acton, "born—I don't care in what shipwright's yard, whether British or French or Roosian or Spaniard—as is going to have more than a look at the Aurora when it's her pleasure to show nothing but her heels." "Swim?".
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Conrad
The footman disappeared. Down through the night-enshrouded woods the boys made their way noiselessly, Billy leading, Walter Watland, nicknamed Fatty on account of his size, close behind him and Maurice Keeler, Billy's sworn chum and confidant, bringing up the rear. Occasionally a soft-winged owl fluttered up from its kill, with a muffled "who-who." Once a heavy object plunged from the trail with a snort, and the boys felt the flesh along their spines creeping. They kept on without so much as a word, crossing a swift creek on a fallen tree, holding to its bank and making a detour into the woods to avoid passing close to a dilapidated log cabin which in the moonlight bore evidence of having fallen into disuse. As they skirted the heavy thicket of pines, which even in the summer night's stillness sighed low and mournfully, the leader halted suddenly and a low exclamation fell from his lips. Captain Acton broke in: "We have finer sunsets in England than any you get in the tropics." "Hould on now!" Harry swayed up from the log, the grin gone from his face. "Ut's little did I think that Billy Wilson would be misunderstandin' me," he said, reproachfully. "Not wan article that the box contained has been teched by me. A small bit av the whisky have I took, because it was no more than sufficient reward fer me findin' the stuff, but the box is safe and safe ut wull be returned to Spencer whin the proper time comes.".
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