Lights appeared in nearly every house.
Shouting men were running along the neighboring wharf.

Maceio, never a heavy sleeper in bulk, dreamed for a second of earthquakes, leaped out of bed, and ran into the streets in the negligent costume which the Italians describe by the delightful word, _confidenza_.
"I don't suppose so," Hozier reassured her.

"If the artillery had made good practice at that short range the gunboat must have sunk at her moorings.

Her men naturally couldn't miss the town.

There was a rare old rattle among the crockery behind the soldiers.