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Little did we know what a storm was brooding in our absence; and little were we prepared for the awful, awful fate that hung over our Tuggeridgeville property. Biggs, of the great house of Higgs, Biggs, and Blatherwick, was our man of business: when I arrived in London I heard that he had just set off to Paris after me. So we started down to Tuggeridgeville instead of going to Portland Place.
Furnival did not think it consistent with his dignity to keep up any dispute in the presence of Miss Biggs, and therefore sat himself down in his accustomed chair without further speech. "Would you wish to have tea now, Mr. Furnival?" asked his wife again, putting considerable stress upon the word now. "I don't care about it," said he. "And I am sure I don't at this late hour," said Miss Biggs.
"Don't let me be in the way." "No, I won't," said Mr. Furnival. Whereupon Miss Biggs again jumped up in her chair as though she had been electrified. It may be remembered that on a former occasion Mr. Furnival had sworn at her or at least in her presence. "You need not be rude to a lady in your own house, because she is my friend," said Mrs. Furnival. "Bother," said Mr. Furnival.
There is a lady living with him who people believe is his daughter, although he has never acknowledged her as such. Mrs. Biggs, the woman I interviewed, gave me a most graphic account of the manner of her arrival at Crompton Place, when she was a little girl like the one you describe. She has a lovely face, but is a little twisted in her brain.
"'Gene don't keer much fur ye ter be alive nohow, Watt Wyatt," one of the others suggested tactlessly, "'count o' Minta Elladine Biggs." Eugene Barker's off-hand phrase was incongruous with his sudden gravity and his evident rancor as he declared: "I ain't carin' fur sech ez Watt Wyatt.
Biggs claimed to have got his hurt by a fall from his horse, pride leading him to clothe the facts in prevarication. If the truth had been known Samson would have suffered a heavy loss of popularity in New Salem. A week after his arrival Ann Rutledge walked over to Jack Kelso's with him. Bim fled up the stick ladder as soon as they entered the door. Mr. Kelso was away on a fox hunt.
"P'r'aps he'd better 'ave a chair all by hisself in the middle of the room." It was all very well for Sam Jones to talk, but the conjurer wouldn't sit on a chair by 'imself. He wouldn't sit on it at all. He seemed to be all legs and arms, and the way 'e struggled it took four or five men to 'old 'im. "Why don't you keep still?" ses John Biggs. "George Kettle'll shoot it in your pocket all right.
"So it appears, sir," replied Mr Sawbridge, as Mr Biggs stood on the planeshear of the sloop where the hammock netting divides for an entrance, with his shirt tails fluttering in the sea breeze; but Mr Sawbridge could not contain himself any longer; he ran down the ship ladder which led on the quarter deck, choked with laughter.
At the end of a fortnight, the insurgents decided to take Miller and Biggs to George Durant's home in Durant's Neck. So the prisoners were taken on board one of the planter's vessels; and down the Pasquotank, into the sound, and a short distance up Little River, the rebels sailed, accompanied by several vessels filled with armed men.
"But first let's see if we can find your horse. I think I saw him turn in at the house above." Samson drove the team, while Biggs and Harry walked up the road in silence. The negro followed in the saddle. Peasley had caught Biggs's horse and was standing at the roadside. "I want to find a Justice of the Peace," said Biggs. "There's one at the next house above.
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