The question was—had Crewe been content to leave Falmouth without making inquiries of other people?
He seemed uneasy, but admitted he could take the ship into Falmouth.
We hove-to off Falmouth, that other vessels might join company.
Butterfield was not even with Hooker, but at Falmouth at the telegraph.
This, and the former camp at Falmouth, were decidedly the pleasantest camps in our three years service.
The Count was with the army during its march from Falmouth to Frederick.
Perhaps we thought of bygone holiday-runs, when we had watched the same telegraph lines switchbacking to Falmouth.
Two hours' pumping in every four is no joke—but it kept her afloat as far as Falmouth.
Having cruised together for some time, we parted company, and we put into Falmouth.
They are fully as good as those of England, better than those we eat at Falmouth.