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Bull-dog would none of it, but slept on deck the whole v'y'ge." "Mr. Bull-dog?" queried Cauldwell. "The one your factor shipped at Bristol," explained Caine, and running over the bundle, he spread before the merchant the following paper: This Indenture, Made the Tenth Day of March in the fifteenth Year of the Reign of our Sovereign Lord George the third King of Great Britain, etc.

"That he sends me the likeliest one from his last shipment. What sort of fellow is he, Phil?" Hennion paused to swallow an over-large mouthful, which almost produced a choking fit, before he could reply. "He han't a civil word about him, squire a regular sullen dog." "Cauldwell writes guardedly, saying it was the best he could do. Where d' ye leave him, lad?" "Outside, in my waggon."

Seated in the sternsheets of the approaching boat was a plainly dressed man, whose appearance so bespoke the mercantile class that it hardly needed the doffing of the captain's cap and his obsequious "your servant, Mr. Cauldwell, and good health to you," as the man clambered on board, to announce the owner of the ship.

Cauldwell opened yet another paper. "Sixty-two in all," he said, with a certain satisfaction in his voice. "Sixty-three," corrected the captain. "Not by the list," denied the merchant. "Sixty-two from Cork Harbour, but we took one aboard ship at Bristol," explained the captain. "Ye must pack them close between decks." "Ay. The shoats in the long boat had more room. Mr.

The Presbyterian preacher wrestled spiritually with Will Cauldwell and so wrought upon his depression that he gave out a solemn statement of confession, remorse and reform. In painting himself in dark colors he painted Jack Dumont jet black. Pauline had known that Dumont was "lively" he was far too proud of his wild oats wholly to conceal them from her.

To the emigrants this sudden deference was a revelation concerning the cruel and oath-using tyrant at whose mercy they had been during the weary weeks at sea. "A long voyage ye've made of it, Captain Caine," said the merchant. "Ay, sir," answered the captain. "Another ten days would have put us short of water, and " "But not of rum? Eh?" interrupted Cauldwell.