"I hope so too," replied Sir Ambrose; "though he says nothing of himself: but you know Edmund: 'Our troops won this,' 'our army gained that!'— 'the soldiers fought bravely!'—he never speaks of himself. To hear him relate a battle, nobody would imagine he had ever had any thing to do with it."
"It is too dark to see any more," said Father Morris, who had been for some time watching the telegraph, and now turned from it in despair; "the machine is still in motion, but it is too dark for me to decipher what it means."
The attention of all present was directed to the sky as he spoke. It was indeed become of pitchy blackness, a general gloom seemed to hang over the face of nature; the birds flew twittering for shelter, a low wind moaned through the trees, and, in short, every thing seemed to portend a storm.
"Had we not better return to the house?" said Dr. Entwerfen, looking round with something like fear at these alarming indications, for his heated imagination had not yet quite recovered the effect of the awful speculations
