Explore "The Sowers" by Henry Seton Merriman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The large drawing-room was brilliantly lighted. Another weary day had dragged to its close. It was the Tuesday evening -- the last Tuesday in March five years ago. The starosta had not been near the castle all day. Steinmetz and Paul had never lost sight of the ladies since breakfast time. They had not ventured out of doors. There was in the atmosphere a sense of foreboding -- the stillness of a crisis. Etta had been defiant and silent -- a dangerous humor -- all day. Maggie had watched Paul's face with steadfast, quiet eyes full of courage, but she knew now that there was danger.
The conversation at breakfast and luncheon had been maintained by Steinmetz -- always collected and a little humorous. It was now dinner time. The whole castle was brilliantly lighted, as if for a great assembly of guests. During the last week a fuller state -- a greater ceremony -- had been observed by Paul's orders, and Steinmetz had thought more than once of that historical event which appealed to his admiration most -- the Indian Mutiny.