the polish rider

the polish rider
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
'Go for'ard and hard alee without any noise,' he said to me in a low voice. 'Clew up the topsails first. Set men at all the sheets. Let there be no rattling of blocks, no sound of voices. No noise, understand, no noise.' ¡¡¡¡When all was ready, the word, 'Hard alee,' was passed forward to me from man to man; and the Ghost heeled about on the port tack with virtually no noise at all. And what little there was- the slapping of a few reef-points and the creaking of a sheave in a block or two- was ghostly under the hollow echoing pall in which we were swathed. ¡¡¡¡We had scarcely filled away, it seemed, when the fog thinned abruptly and we were again in the sunshine, the wide-stretching sea breaking before us to the skyline. But the ocean was bare. No wrathful Macedonia broke its surface or blackened the sky with her smoke. ¡¡¡¡Wolf Larsen at once squared away and ran down along the rim of the fog-bank. His trick was obvious. He had entered the fog to windward of the steamer, and while the steamer had blindly driven on into the fog in the chance of catching him, he had come about and out of his shelter and was now running down to reenter to leeward. Successful in this, the old simile of the needle in the haystack would be mild indeed compared with his brother's chance of finding him.