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Denise Henry
Long Odds
Long Odds
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Long Odds by Harold Bindloss, author of “Alton of Somasco,” “The Cattle-Baron’s Daughter,” “The Mistress of Bonaventure,” “Winston of The Prairie,” “Delilah of The Snows,” etc.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1. Thomas Ormsgill
Chapter 2. Restitution
Chapter 3. His Own People
Chapter 4. The Summons
Chapter 5. A Determined Man
Chapter 6. Desmond Makes an Admission
Chapter 7. Ormsgill Keeps His Word
Chapter 8. The Bondswoman
Chapter 9. Anita Becomes a Responsibility
Chapter 10. Ormsgill Asks a Favor
Chapter 11. Desmond Ventures a Hint
Chapter 12. Lister Offers Satisfaction
Chapter 13. His Beneficent Influence
Chapter 14. Herrero’s Imprudence
Chapter 15. Nares Counts the Cost
Chapter 16. Negro Diplomacy
Chapter 17. The Ambuscade
Chapter 18. Dom Clemente Looks on
Chapter 19. The Delayed Message
Chapter 20. Desmond Goes Ashore
Chapter 21. On the Beach
Chapter 22. Under Stress
Chapter 23. The Slackening of Restraint
Chapter 24. Benicia Makes a Bargain
Chapter 25. Domingo Appears
Chapter 26. The Day of Reckoning
Chapter 27. An Error of Judgment
Chapter 28. The Chefe Stands Fast
Chapter 29. Dom Clemente Strikes
Chapter 30. Ormsgill Bears the Test
Chapter 31. On His Trial
Chapter 32. Benicia Undertakes an Obligation
Chapter 1. Thomas Ormsgill
It was towards the middle of a sweltering afternoon when Commandant Dom Erminio roused himself to wakefulness as he lay in his Madeira chair on the veranda of Fort San Roque, which stands beside a muddy river of Western Africa. As a rule Dom Erminio slept all the afternoon, which was not astonishing, since there was very little else for him to do, and if there had been he would conscientiously have refrained from doing it as long as possible. It is also very probable that any other intelligent white man similarly circumstanced would have been glad to spend part, at least, of the weary day in merciful oblivion. San Roque is one of the hottest places in Africa, which is saying a good deal, and at night a sour white steam, heavy with the exhalations of putrefaction, rises from the muddy river. They usually bring the white man who breathes them fever of one or several kinds, while even if he endures them scatheless the steamy heat melts the vigor out of him, and the black dejection born of it and the monotony crushes his courage down. San Roque is scorched with pitiless sunshine during part of the year, but it is walled in by never-lifting shadow, for all round the dark forest creeps close up to it.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1. Thomas Ormsgill
Chapter 2. Restitution
Chapter 3. His Own People
Chapter 4. The Summons
Chapter 5. A Determined Man
Chapter 6. Desmond Makes an Admission
Chapter 7. Ormsgill Keeps His Word
Chapter 8. The Bondswoman
Chapter 9. Anita Becomes a Responsibility
Chapter 10. Ormsgill Asks a Favor
Chapter 11. Desmond Ventures a Hint
Chapter 12. Lister Offers Satisfaction
Chapter 13. His Beneficent Influence
Chapter 14. Herrero’s Imprudence
Chapter 15. Nares Counts the Cost
Chapter 16. Negro Diplomacy
Chapter 17. The Ambuscade
Chapter 18. Dom Clemente Looks on
Chapter 19. The Delayed Message
Chapter 20. Desmond Goes Ashore
Chapter 21. On the Beach
Chapter 22. Under Stress
Chapter 23. The Slackening of Restraint
Chapter 24. Benicia Makes a Bargain
Chapter 25. Domingo Appears
Chapter 26. The Day of Reckoning
Chapter 27. An Error of Judgment
Chapter 28. The Chefe Stands Fast
Chapter 29. Dom Clemente Strikes
Chapter 30. Ormsgill Bears the Test
Chapter 31. On His Trial
Chapter 32. Benicia Undertakes an Obligation
Chapter 1. Thomas Ormsgill
It was towards the middle of a sweltering afternoon when Commandant Dom Erminio roused himself to wakefulness as he lay in his Madeira chair on the veranda of Fort San Roque, which stands beside a muddy river of Western Africa. As a rule Dom Erminio slept all the afternoon, which was not astonishing, since there was very little else for him to do, and if there had been he would conscientiously have refrained from doing it as long as possible. It is also very probable that any other intelligent white man similarly circumstanced would have been glad to spend part, at least, of the weary day in merciful oblivion. San Roque is one of the hottest places in Africa, which is saying a good deal, and at night a sour white steam, heavy with the exhalations of putrefaction, rises from the muddy river. They usually bring the white man who breathes them fever of one or several kinds, while even if he endures them scatheless the steamy heat melts the vigor out of him, and the black dejection born of it and the monotony crushes his courage down. San Roque is scorched with pitiless sunshine during part of the year, but it is walled in by never-lifting shadow, for all round the dark forest creeps close up to it.
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