’ ‘Captain Roding, sir,’ put in Gerald, adding on a jocular note, ‘Another of the green whippersnappers you had to contend with some years back. Dare we look back upon the darkened vista, and, in imagination retrace the path we have trod? With how many vain hopes is it shaded! with how many good resolutions, never fulfilled, is it paved! Where are the dreams of ambition in which, twelve years ago, we indulged? Where are the aspirations that fired us—the passions that consumed us then? Has our success in life been commensurate with our own desires—with the anticipations formed of us by others? Or, are we not blighted in heart, as in ambition? Has not the loved one been estranged by doubt, or snatched from us by the cold hand of death? Is not the goal, towards which we pressed, further off than ever—the prospect before us cheerless as the blank behind?—Enough of this. "Joan! Joan!" vociferated he, "open the door, for God's sake, or I shall be murdered, and so will your babby! Open the door quickly, I say. He refused his food,—and even when better provisions were offered him, rejected them. " "From whom?" vociferated Trenchard. . Totally disregarding the pain, he picked up the nail, and reserved it for future use.
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