The wind rose, the sign creaked, and the candles waved.

The weather had, in truth, broken up for the season, and this was the first night of the change.
'Well, here we are,' said Havill, as he poured out another glass of the brandied liquor called old port at Sleeping-Green; 'and it seems that here we are to remain for the present.' 'I am at home anywhere!' cried the lad, whose brow was hot and eye wild.
Havill, who had not drunk enough to affect his reasoning, held up his glass to the light and said, 'I never can quite make out what you are, or what your age is.

Are you sixteen, one-and-twenty, or twenty-seven?
And are you an Englishman, Frenchman, Indian, American, or what?
You seem not to have taken your degrees in these parts.' 'That's a secret, my friend,' said Dare.

'I am a citizen of the world.
I owe no country patriotism, and no king or queen obedience.

A man whose country has no boundary is your only true gentleman.' 'Well, where were you born--somewhere, I suppose ?' 'It would be a fact worth the telling.