The Way of an Eagle

ⱆ
The Way of an Eagle, by Ethel M. Dell

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Title: The Way of an Eagle
Author: Ethel M. Dell
Release Date: June 4, 2004 [EBook #12516]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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[Illustration: Drawn by John Cassel. "Where am I?" she gasped. "What--what have you done with me?"]

The Way of an Eagle
By E.M. DELL
1911

CONTENTS


PART I
CHAPTER
I.--THE TRUST
II.--A SOLDIER'S DAUGHTER
III.--THE VICTIM OF TREACHERY
IV.--DESOLATION
V.--THE DEVIL IN THE WILDERNESS
VI.--WHEN STRONG MEN FAIL
VII.--THE COMING OF AN ARMY


PART II
VIII.--COMRADES
IX.--THE SCHOOL OF SORROW
X.--THE EAGLE SWOOPS
XI.--THE FIRST FLIGHT
XII.--THE MESSAGE
XIII.--THE VOICE OF A FRIEND
XIV.--THE POISON OF ADDERS
XV.--THE SUMMONS
XVI.--THE ORDEAL


PART III
XVII.--An Old Friend
XVIII.--The Explanation
XIX.--A Hero Worshipper
XX.--News from the East
XXI.--A Harbour of Refuge
XXII.--An Old Story
XXIII.--The Sleep Called Death
XXIV.--The Creed of a Fighter
XXV.--A Scented Letter
XXVI.--The Eternal Flame
XXVII.--The Eagle Caged
XXVIII.--The Lion's Skin
XXIX.--Old Friends Meet
XXX.--An Offer of Friendship
XXXI.--The Eagle Hovers


PART IV
XXXII.--The Face in the Storm
XXXIII.--The Lifting of the Mask
XXXIV.--At the Gate of Death
XXXV.--The Armistice
XXXVI.--The Eagle Strikes
XXXVII. THE PENALTY FOR SENTIMENT
XXXVIII. THE WATCHER OF THE CLIFF
XXXIX. BY SINGLE COMBAT
XL. THE WOMAN'S CHOICE
XLI. THE EAGLE'S PREY
XLII. THE HARDEST FIGHT OF ALL
XLIII. REQUIESCAT
XLIV. LOVE'S PRISONER


PART V
XLV. THE VISION
XLVI. THE HEART OF A MAN
XLVII. IN THE NAME OF FRIENDSHIP
XLVIII. THE HEALING OF THE BREACH
XLIX. THE LOWERING OF THE FLAG
L. EREBUS
LI. THE BIRD OF PARADISE
LII. A WOMAN'S OFFERING
LIII. THE LAST SKIRMISH
LIV. SURRENDER
LV. OMNIA VINCIT AMOR
LVI. THE EAGLE SOARS

"There be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four which I know not:
The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man with a maid."
Proverbs xxx, 18-19.

THE WAY OF AN EAGLE


CHAPTER I
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PART I
CHAPTER I
THE TRUST
The long clatter of an irregular volley of musketry rattled warningly from the naked mountain ridges; over a great grey shoulder of rock the sun sank in a splendid opal glow; from very near at hand came the clatter of tin cups and the sound of a subdued British laugh. And in the room of the Brigadier-General a man lifted his head from his hands and stared upwards with unseeing, fixed eyes.
There was an impotent, crushed look about him as of one nearing the end of his strength. The lips under the heavy grey moustache moved a little as though they formed soundless words. He drew his breath once or twice sharply through his teeth. Finally, with a curious groping movement he reached out and struck a small hand-gong on the table in front of him.
The door slid open instantly and an Indian soldier stood in the opening. The Brigadier stared full at him for several seconds as if he saw nothing, his lips still moving secretly, silently. Then suddenly, with a stiff gesture, he spoke.
"Ask the major sahib and the two captain sahibs to come to me here."
The Indian saluted and vanished like a swift-moving shadow.
The Brigadier sank back into his chair, his head drooped forward, his hands clenched. There was tragedy, hopeless and absolute, in every line of him.
There came the careless clatter of spurred heels and loosely-slung swords in the passage outside of the half-closed door, the sound of a stumble, a short ejaculation, and again a smothered laugh.
"Confound you Grange! Why can't you keep your feet to yourself, you ungainly Triton, and give us poor minnows a chance?"
The Brigadier sat upright with a jerk. It was growing rapidly dark.
"Come in, all of you," he said. "I have something to say. As well to shut the door, Ratcliffe, though it is not a council of war."
"There being nothing left to discuss, sir," returned the voice that had laughed. "It is just a simple case of sitting tight now till Bassett comes round the corner."
The Brigadier glanced up at the speaker and caught the last glow of the fading sunset reflected on his face. It was a clean-shaven face that should have possessed a fair skin, but by reason of unfavourable circumstances it was burnt to a deep yellow-brown. The features were pinched and wrinkled--they might have belonged to a very old man; but the eyes that smiled down into the Brigadier's were shrewd, bright, monkey-like. They expressed a cheeriness almost grotesque. The two men whom he had followed into the room stood silent among the shadows. The gloom was such as could be felt.
Suddenly, in short, painful tones the Brigadier began to speak.
"Sit down," he said. "I have sent for you to ask one among you to