sky train

“We met the smuggler in the train station; he came to speak with us about the services he provided,” Yazbek says.

It was the darkest hour of twilight, when there was just enough of gleam from the lurid sky, to shew the outline of objects.

He had seen through a powerful naval glass some figures standing erect and silhouetted against the sky on the parapet.

It was only the engine drawing the train of cars up to the station to take the passengers away.

If it should ever be my lot to take the Long Trail at short notice, I hope it will be under a blue sky and a blazing sun.

He went careering forward to his point, overturning and wounding; but as he speeded on, he left a train of enemies behind.