George Allan England

George Allan England

Summary

Portrait of George Allan England George Allan England,  Conspiracy (England) — Chapter 10 (1925)

“ He was a strange figure, staring-eyed, with ragged beard, and with clothes glued to his panting body—a wild, unreal figure, more like some shipwrecked pirate of romance than a New York financier. Life sometimes plays odd jests like these.
Now, on the beach, he could make out the yacht at anchor. She had swung around, her bow toward the west, her stern toward the shore, and was riding easily with no lights aboard. Wingate plowed along the sands and came to the little cedar dinghy drawn up almost to the edge of the dunes.
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Source: Wikisource

Portrait of George Allan England George Allan England,  Conspiracy (England) — Chapter 10 (1925)

“ Once under the bungalow, he lay still for a few minutes, listening. Save for the steady drumming of rain on the house and on the palmetto fronds, and the roar of the surf as the west wind drove it up the beach, he heard nothing. An occasional dart of lightning revealed no sign of a guard.
“The captain and Zanelli would be bigger fools than I think them,” Wingate pondered, “if they stirred out of their own bungalow on a night like this!”
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Source: Wikisource

Portrait of George Allan England George Allan England,  Conspiracy (England) — Chapter 10 (1925)

“ With the piece of board gripped in his right hand, he made way on all fours toward the edge of the palmetto thicket, taking care to keep his bungalow between him and that of his jailers.
His unnaturally dilated pupils now stood him in good stead. Even in the darkest gloom he could make out dim outlines of things, and the intermittent lightning flashes revealed clearing and jungle in every minutest detail. So far as he could make out, not a living thing was in view.
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Source: Wikisource

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