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"Let the Captain tell you the story himself," said Carter. "He knows all the details." "But when can I see him?" questioned Jane. "When," she hesitated, remembering the shameful bonds that had held him, "when will he be free?" "He's as free this minute as we are," Carter explained. "It didn't take the Chief long to get the bracelets off, after Colonel Brook-White had identified him.
But there was a gloating look in Carter Brooks' eyes as they turned on me. "Carter!" I said, "you know where he is and you will not tell me. You WISH to ruin him." I was about to put my hand on his arm, but he drew away. "Look here," he said. "I'll tell you somthing, but please keep back. Because you look like smallpox to me. I was at the mill this morning.
Carter, of Nomini Hall, had three waiting men for her coach; a driver, a coachman and a postillion. In the matter of dress there seems, from the earliest days, to have been a love of show and elegance. Inventories of the first half of the 17th century mention frequently wearing apparel that is surprisingly rich.
Unless he gets messages to carry through the jungle, avoiding ambushes, swimming in storms and knowing no rest, he won't like it." Carter listened with an unmoved face. It seemed to him that the Captain had forgotten his presence.
Carter at all; and as there seems to have been no mention of an increased stipend, the parson-publican must have continued this strange anomaly. It is difficult to say whether the public-house was conducted in the crypt beneath the church or not. I am inclined to think that Mrs.
Carter toward the open door of the car. "Hul-lo" exclaimed Mr. Carter, when he saw the farmer and realized how he had "dropped in." "That milk for sale?" "Why, mister," drawled Snubbins, "I'm under contrac' ter Peleg Morton ter deliver two cans of milk to him ev'ry day. I wasn't goin' to have him claim I hadn't tried ter fulfil my part of the contrac', so I started 'cross-lots with the cans."
"We've come, Carter; we've come!" cried Marjorie, flinging open a door of the green-house in which Carter was busy potting some plants. "You don't say so, Miss Mischief! Well, I'm right down glad to see you! And is this Master King? And Miss Kitty? Well, you all grow like weeds after a rain, but I'll warrant you're as full of mischief as ever!"
Disregarding the curt command, Carter, still holding Trusia in his arms, leaped lightly from the car and would have carried her into the castle had not the elderly soldier barred his way. With face crimson every glistening hair seemed to flash the lightning of his unspeakable rage at such presumption. "Monsieur," said Carter with level eyes, "let me pass.
"You will, too," said Jim. "You're a wreck, and I ought to be shot. Get some sleep, for God's sake!" "What becomes of you?" "I'll scout round and find a place in the office. I think there is a billiard-room. If worst comes to worst, I'll do what Mrs. Leslie Carter did in a play I saw sleep on the dining-room table." "Not less than a table d'hote will hold you," Charity smiled, wanly.
"But I'm glad to hear ye say so, all the same. It'll be a great comfort to me and to the passengers too to feel that we've got a naval officer aboard, if things should happen to go at all crooked. And now, Mr Grenvile, havin' said my say, I'll wish ye good-night, and hope you'll be able to get a good sound sleep between this and morning." And therewith Carter at length took himself off.
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