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Elmsdale a rough beast, who had no capacity of ever developing into a prince. Miss Blake was a model of sisterly affection, and if eccentric in her manner, and bewildering in the vagaries of her accent, well, most Irish people, the highest in rank not excepted, were the same.
"I get him a cookie!" said Sammie with a laugh as he toddled toward the house. "Sammie likes dogs," said his father as Hal and Mab hurried on to school. Mr. Blake was away longer than he thought he would be, and it was over a week before he came back home.
The words were indistinguishable, but the voice had an exultant note in it. "He has found the trail!" Blake exclaimed with deep relief. It was difficult to see the print of Benson's shoes, and Harding could not move a step alone, but they called out at intervals as Blake slowly helped him along, and at last a shadowy object loomed in front of them.
He must go direct to his quarters. I will send Mr. Blake at once to him. They are going now together. I shall go and find out all I can. Do not tell Mrs. Truscott." And without a word Marion Sanford went slowly up the stairs and to her room. Mrs. Stannard listened until she heard her close the door, then hastened down the row in pursuit of Mr. Blake.
It was a calm evening with a coppery sunset flaring across the snow, but intensely cold, and though they had wood enough and sat close beside a fire with their ragged blankets wrapped round them they could not keep warm. Harding and Benson were openly dejected, but Blake had somehow preserved his cheerful serenity.
It was just in such a chapel, and under such circumstances, that Father Blake was celebrating the mass at which Andy was present, and after which he hoped to obtain a word of advice from the worthy Father, who was much more sought after on such occasions than his more sedate superior who presided over the spiritual welfare of the parish and whose solemn celebration of the mass was by no means so agreeable as the lighter service of Father Phil.
With new bewilderment in his face, the young officer, still white and trembling, was gazing, half stupefied, from one to the other. "What money?" he demanded. "I never heard " "Wait," said the general, with significant glance at Ray, who was about to speak. "I am to see them Mrs. Hay and her niece at nine o'clock. It is near that now. Webb cannot be with us, but I shall want you, Blake.
Tom." And she deemed herself not undutiful, nor lacking in filial amity, for so doing. Kathryn had followed her sister into the house. Left alone with Blake, Muriel ran swiftly to him, bounding to his knee, and clasping around his neck strong little arms. "Mr. Tom," she cried, "you haven't told me a story for most a year!" He held her to him.
Then sudden, close at hand, yet muffled by double door and windows, came other sounds sounds of rush and scurry, excited voices, cries of halt! halt! the ring of a carbine, a yell of warning another shot, and Blake and the aide-de-camp sprang through the hallway to the storm door without. Mrs. Hay, shuddering with dread, ran to the door of her husband's chamber beyond the dining room.
As Hal and Mab started up stairs, thinking what a wonderful thing it was to have a garden, there came a ring at the front door. "My! Who can be calling this time of night?" asked Mother Blake, in surprise. Hal and Mab wondered too. "Let's wait and see who it is, Hal," whispered Mab to her brother as they stood on the stairs.
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