Explore "Micah Clarke" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
All along the ridge of Portsdown Hill we had the lights of Portsmouth / and of the harbour ships twinkling beneath us on the left, while on / the right the Forest of Bere was ablaze with the signal fires which / proclaimed the landing of the invader. One great beacon throbbed upon / the summit of Butser, while beyond that, as far as eye could reach, / twinkling sparks of light showed how the tidings were being carried / north into Berkshire and eastward into Sussex. Of these fires, some were / composed of faggots piled into heaps, and others of tar barrels set upon / poles. We passed one of these last just opposite to Portchester, and the / watchers around it, hearing the tramp of our horses and the clank of / our arms, set up a loud huzza, thinking doubtless that we were King's / officers bound for the West.
Master Decimus Saxon had flung to the winds the precise demeanour which / he had assumed in the presence of my father, and rattled away with many / a jest and scrap of rhyme or song as we galloped through the darkness.