[Micah Clarke by Arthur Conan Doyle]@TWC D-Link bookMicah Clarke CHAPTER XVIII 17/46
'Shall not the Almighty feed His soldiers even as Elisha was fed in the wilderness and Hagar in the desert ?' 'Aye,' exclaimed a lanky-haired, swarthy young man who sat upon the right of Sir Gervas, 'he will provide for us, even as the stream of water gushed forth out of dry places, even as the quails and the manna lay thick upon barren soil.' 'So I trust, young sir,' quoth Saxon, 'but we must none the less arrange a victual-train, with a staff of wains, duly numbered, and an intendant over each, after the German fashion.
Such things should not be left to chance.' Pretty Mistress Timewell glanced up with a half startled look at this remark, as though shocked at the want of faith implied in it.
Her thoughts might have taken the form of words had not her father entered the room at the moment, the whole company rising and bowing to him as he advanced to his seat. 'Be seated, friends,' said he, with a wave of his hand; 'we are a homely folk, Colonel Saxon, and the old-time virtue of respect for our elders has not entirely forsaken us.
I trust, Ruth,' he continued, 'that thou hast seen to the wants of our guests.' We all protested that we had never received such attention and hospitality. ''Tis well, 'tis well,' said the good wool-worker.
'But your plates are clear and your glasses empty.
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