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"The findin' of this gent Sorez bein' one of 'em," answered Stubbs. "An' I guess we better be about it." "It is for the sake of the girl," explained Wilson. "The one you saw me bringing from the dungeon. Sorez kidnapped her from America, and now he has taken her again." The General's face brightened. "Ah, that is it!" He summoned a lieutenant and held a brief whispered conversation with him.
By and by Mitch said: "Do you remember when we were here and lay on top of that shed and I told you about losin' Zueline, and that there was somethin' else in my mind?" "Yes," says I. "Well," says Mitch, "you know what it was now, don't you?" "I think so," says I. "Of course it was that Rainey murder and findin' that pistol. And I'd like to ask you, Skeet, if you think I dreamed that."
A've wished for a gallery at a time, but there's mair credit in findin' it oot below ay, an' pleesure tae; a' never wearied in kirk in ma life." Mrs. Macfadyen did not appreciate prodigal quotations of Scriptures, and had her suspicions of this practice. "Tak the minister o' Pitscourie noo; he's fair fozzy wi' trokin' in his gairden an' feedin' pigs, and hesna studied a sermon for thirty year.
And Mistress MacAlister, painfully intoxicated at the dinner hour of 2 p.m., and the uncooked leg of young pork in the larder. 'D'ye thenk ah'm goin' to cuik till ye on the Sabba' Day? Ye'll no be findin' th' irreligious sort o' betches that'll do that for ye in Dundee, ah'm thenkin'.
He's never seen a little wench here before, an' he's bent on findin' out all about thee. Tha's no need to try to hide anything from him." "Are things stirring down below in the dark in that garden where he lives?" Mary inquired. "What garden?" grunted Weatherstaff, becoming surly again. "The one where the old rose-trees are." She could not help asking, because she wanted so much to know.
'Tis not a ro'd proper but indistink like an' wanderin'. So Ah be feared o' missin' it." "T' owd Drovers' Track, tha meanst. 'Tis easy findin'," said the girl. "Thou turn'st off to left by two thorns wi' a white stone by root o' t' girt 'un. But they stand a long mile down t' road.
He's never seen a little wench here before, an' he's bent on findin' out all about thee. Tha's no need to try to hide anything from him." "Are things stirring down below in the dark in that garden where he lives?" Mary inquired. "What garden?" grunted Weatherstaff, becoming surly again. "The one where the old rose-trees are." She could not help asking, because she wanted so much to know.
"'Yes, said she; 'that little brown man who came out here and looked at me as if he were determined to know me the next time he saw me. "'Oh, him! said Sam. 'That's a friend of mine, Cap'n Abner Budlong. He's no detective, nor nothin' like one. He jes came out to see who was passin' while I was findin' out about the toll. He's always fond of seein' people.
"But she's got the fancifullest notions! All about that old stone knight in the garden an' what wi' the things he's left carved all over the wall of the room where she read them queer old books, she's fair 'mazed with ideas that don't belong to the ways o' the world at all. I can't think what'll become o' the child. Won't there be any means of findin' out where she's gone?"
"But you don't care about old Miss Webster," Jane observed with a laugh. "I never wished Miss Webster ill, goodness knows that," returned Eliza gravely. "None of us ever did 'cept Martin, an' he's got no business to. I s'pose he'd like nothin' better than to have her run across this thing. You don't s'pose there's any danger that she will, do you, Jane?" "Danger of her findin' it?" "No.
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