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"But, notwithstanding, you knights of the Rosy Cross have means, no doubt, of breaking the spell, and discovering what the poor monks have put themselves to so much trouble to conceal?" "Ah! goot Mr. "Seeing is believing indeed. But what was your art what was your mystery, Mr. Dousterswivel?" "Aha, Mr. Oldenbuck! dat is my little secret, mine goot sir you sall forgife me that I not tell that.
When I informed him of Mackshane's condition, he seemed at first to exult over his distress; but, after a little recollection, said, "Well, he has paid for his malice; I forgife him, and may Cot forgife him likewise."
"Well, I'll forgife him a little, Malcolm not ta one tat's tead, but ta one tat tidn't do it, you know. Put how will she pe forgifing him for ripping her poor pag? Och hone! och hone! No more musics for her tying tays, Malcolm! Och hone! och hone! I shall co creeping to ta crafe with no loud noises to defy ta enemy. Her pipes is tumb for efer and efer. Och hone! och hone!"
"And if she'll tie tonight, my poy," said Duncan, "she'll pe lie awake in her crave all ta long tarkness, to pe waiting to hear ta voice of your worrts in ta morning. And nefer you mind, Malcolm, she'll has learned to forgife you for peing only ta one half of yourself a cursed Cam'ell." Miss Horn gave Malcolm a wink, as much as to say, "Let the old man talk.
"But, notwithstanding, you knights of the Rosy Cross have means, no doubt, of breaking the spell, and discovering what the poor monks have put themselves to so much trouble to conceal?" "Ah! goot Mr. "Seeing is believing indeed. But what was your art what was your mystery, Mr. Dousterswivel?" "Aha, Mr. Oldenbuck! dat is my little secret, mine goot sir you sall forgife me that I not tell that.
"We are told in the New Testament to forgive our enemies, you know," said Mrs Courthope, heedless of his entrance, but in a voice that seemed rather to plead than oppose. "Inteet she will not be false to her shief and her clan," retorted Duncan persistently. "She will not forgife Cawmil of Glenlyon." "But he's dead long since, and we may at least hope he repented and was forgiven."
"So you won't forgive my father, Mr MacPhail?" said Lady Florimel. "She would forgife any man put two men," he answered, " Clenlyon, and ta man, whoefer he might pe, who would put upon her ta tiscrace of trinking in his company." "But you're quite mistaken," said Lady Florimel, in a pleading tone. "I don't believe my father knows the gentleman you speak of." "Chentleman!" echoed Duncan.