"I confess that I never think of London, which I love, without thinking of that palace which David built for Bathsheba, sitting in hearing of one hundred streams,—streams of thought, of intelligence, of activity. One other thing about London impresses me beyond any other sound I have ever heard, and that is the low, unceasing roar one hears always in the air; it is not a mere accident, like a tempest or a cataract, but it is impressive, because it always indicates human will, and impulse, and conscious movement; and I confess that when I hear it I almost feel as if I were listening to the roaring loom of time.
1867. The Civil War is over. Yet there is much unrest and resentment that lives on throughout the land, and in the hearts of many... Marco steps out of the ashes of the war; a man turned bounty hunter had everything which mattered most to him violently stripped away. So he emerges with a burning desire like none other to find redemption, and a new purpose in life. He sets off i...
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