Charles John Cutcliffe Wright Hyne

Charles John Cutcliffe Wright Hyne

Summary

Portrait of Charles John Cutcliffe Wright Hyne Charles John Cutcliffe Wright Hyne Honor of Thieves: A Novel

She was coming down over the seas dry as a gull, driving along under her boom foresail and jib.
The donkeyman’s eye hung on her as she surged past the rust-streaked flank of the steamer, some twenty fathoms away, not because the sight of a little white-painted schooner was new to him, not because he was impressed by the danger to the Port Edes’ enterprise in her being seen by any alien eye, but on account of the tiny vessel being handled (in what to her was distinctly ugly weather) by so extraordinary a person as a young and pretty girl.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Charles John Cutcliffe Wright Hyne Charles John Cutcliffe Wright Hyne Honor of Thieves: A Novel

Shelf burst into a torrent of expostulations; exciting himself more and more as he went on; till at last he stood before the other with gripped fists and the veins ridged out down his neck, inarticulate with fury.
Onslow heard him out with a contemptuous smile, but when the man had stormed himself into silence, then he spoke, coolly and coldly:
“When one trades in life and death, the brokerage is heavy. You have heard my offer. If you don’t like it, say so without further palaver, and I’ll leave you now—with your conscience, if you have a rag of such a commodity left.”
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Charles John Cutcliffe Wright Hyne Charles John Cutcliffe Wright Hyne Honor of Thieves: A Novel

The camp-stool was kicked into the air, the wet canvas dodgers shed water in streams, and Captain Owen Kettle fell spread-eagled on the planking of the bridge. From the hatch in the fore-deck before him had sprung a volcano of ruddy flame spurting through vast billows of smoke; the iron plating round it buckled and split; and the whole steamer gave a trembling, frightened leap. Presently, from the black, windy night above, there fell an avalanche of débris which smote the steamer and the water round, like canister-shot from a distant cannonade.
Source: Gutenberg

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