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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"A Maker of History"

There
seemed to be nothing for me to do but to walk ahead in the direction
which the train had taken. I lit a pipe and started out all right, but I
very soon got tired. The sleepers were a long way apart, and the track
between frightfully rough. I walked for hours without seeing the
slightest sign of a station or a break in the woods, and finally I sat
down dead beat. My feet were all blisters, and I felt that I couldn't
walk another yard. Fortunately it was a warm night, and I made up my
mind to crawl under the bracken just inside the wood and go to sleep. I
found a comfortable place, and I'd just gone off when a noise close at
hand woke me. I sat up and looked around.
"Within a few feet of me an engine and a single carriage had pulled up.
At intervals along the line as far as I could see soldiers were
stationed like sentries. I could see that they were looking sharply up
and down, and even a little way into the wood. From the train three or
four men in long cloaks had already descended. They were standing in the
track talking together."
For the first time Monsieur Grisson interrupted. He took his cigar from
his mouth and leaned over towards the young Englishman.


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