Explore "Lud-In-The-Mist" by Hope Mirrlees on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
About two hours after he had set out from the farm, Master Nathaniel reached a snug little hollow at the foot of the hills, chosen for their camp by the consignment of the Lud Yeomanry stationed, by his own orders, at the foot of the Debatable Hills.
"Halt! " cried the sentry. And then he dropped his musket in amazement. "Well, I'm blessed if it ain't his Worship! " he cried. Some six or seven of his mates, who were lounging about the camp, some playing cards, some lying on their backs and staring up at the sky, came hurrying up at the sound of the challenge, and, speechless with astonishment, they stared at Master Nathaniel.