A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. The uproar was tremendous—men yelling— dogs barking,—but above all was heard the stentorian voice of Jonathan, urging them on. He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room. “Now replace the stone, my child. People running, screaming, hiding. Nala, derin denizlerin ve okyanusların sırlarını çözmüş, sualtı harikalarını keşfetmişti.
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