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The road on which they are to travel is the same for some leagues as that along which Royston Keene must return, and she is thinking, divided between hope and fear, if there may not be a possibility of their meeting. The wheels move, and hasty farewells are waved, and Mark stands there half stupefied, unconscious of any thing but a sense of lonely wretchedness.
"Well, Mr Keene, of course it is from the interest I took in your mother that I was induced to take you under my protection, and her death will make no difference in that point, so long as you conduct yourself as you have hitherto done. You have now created a strong interest for yourself by your good conduct, and I shall not lose sight of you.
I've got the softest snap but for one thing." "Wal?" "An infernal man-tracker from Gotham is out here on my lay. He may prove troublesome." "I've seen him Sile Keene." "Yes. Put him off the track, Perry, and I'll make it an object." Then the hunter laid a gold eagle in the hand of the tramp. An avaricious gleam filled the man's wicked eyes. "You can count on me, brother."
Senor Perkins smiled gently, but sadly. "Your belief, reverend sir, does you infinite credit. But, to save time, let me give way to a gentleman who, I believe, possesses your confidence. He will confirm my statement." He drew aside, and allowed Hurlstone, who had been standing unperceived behind, to step forward. The Padre uttered an exclamation of pleasure. Miss Keene colored quickly.
Charles Keene, again another contemporary, though he lived into a later and different time. He saw little else than common forms of human ignominy indignities of civic physique, of stupid prosperity, of dress, of bearing.
He trembled very much from the effects of his alarm, but made a very profound bow, and said to Captain Delmar "Here is the state of killed and wounded, Captain Delmar, as far as I have been able to collect them. I could not possibly get them ascertained before, although I have been an hour or two employed ever since Mr Keene came down."
Miss Keene, who, in her complete absorption, had listened to the phantom bells with an almost superstitious exaltation, had forgotten the presence of her companion, and now turned towards him. But he was gone. The imminent danger he had spoken of, half slightingly, he evidently considered as past.
Be careful how you run into second base. If you ever slide into him head first good-bye! He's a great player, and he can hit any kind of a ball. MacNeff now, just as you said, is weak on a high ball close in, and he kills a low ball. Kills is the word! He hits them a mile. But, Peg, I think you're a little off on Keene, Starke, and Martin, the other Place cracks.
"Ay, ay, sir!" answered Simpson with a grin at the "Mr" which I had given him. "Away aloft there two hands and loose the to'ga'nt-sail. Cast off the clewlines and buntlines, and see all ready to sheet home and hoist away!" Followed by Keene I dived through the companion, descended the ladder which was in reality a staircase, and entered the little vessel's main cabin.
"Bueno!" returned the Senor gently. "Excuse me, ladies, for a moment." "Perhaps it is some news of poor Mr. Hurlstone?" said Miss Keene, with an instinctive girlish movement of hope. "Who knows?" returned Senor Perkins, waving his hand as he gayly tripped after his guide. "Let us believe in the best, dear young lady, the best!"
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