United States or Tuvalu ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
It was the greatest disappointment of Henry Marker's life that he had not been able to give his daughter all that other fathers gave theirs. Both he and his wife had been gently reared, and it was through no fault of his that their property had been swept away just as he was launching into his profession. A place at a bookkeeper's desk had been the first thing that he had been able to obtain.
He certainly had not been at the 'Lark's Nest, which was kept by the marker's venerable parent, and was a favourite haunt of the gay lieutenant.
He had run through half her money, and the other half she meant to defend like a lioness. The specter of poverty rose up before her, she reflected that rich people would cast her out of their society, and look upon her as a weak woman without any self-respect, conquered by Marker's tenacity.
On nearing the goal the rush of the boats grew fiercer; each foreman, considering it honor lost, if not a fatal mischance, did he fail to be first at the turning-point, persisted in driving straight forward a madness which the furious yelling of the people on the marker's deck intensified. This was exactly what the hamari had foreseen.
Here was a clear piece of work for him. And even if it was fruitless it would bring him nearer to the frontier; his expedition to the north would be begun. "Let me go," he said. "I came out here to explore the hills and I take all risks on my own head. I can give them Marker's message as well as anybody else." Thwaite looked at Holm. "I don't see why he shouldn't.
"Marker's a louse!" Marker had succeeded in stealing one of the oldest customers of the workshop. "There isn't salt to eat an egg!" "Well, what shall I do?" asked Pelle, somewhat impatiently. The master sat for a while in silence. "Well, take it, then!" he cried, and threw a krone toward Pelle; "I have no peace from you so long as I've got a farthing in my pocket, you demon!
"Suppose you find no rising. That will mean that Marker's letter was a blind of some sort. He wanted to get you out of the way or something. What will you do then? Come back here?" "N o," said Lewis hesitatingly. "I think Thwaite is good enough, and I should be no manner of use. You and I will wait up there in the hills on the off-chance of picking up some news.
Outside a dripping mist had clouded the hills and chilled the hot air. The two men smoked silently, knocking out their ashes and refilling with the regularity of clockwork. Lewis was thinking hard, thinking of the bitterness of dashed hopes, of self-confidence clutched at and lost. He saw as if in an inspiration the trend of Marker's plans.
The captain of the 'Pizarro' left his room at five o'clock, and tapped at Joyce Marker's door with the intention of bidding him goodbye. "I'm off, Joyce," he said; "be sure you keep your eye upon the repairs between this and the fifth." He was prepared to receive a drowsy answer; but to his surprise the door was opened, and Joyce stood dressed upon the threshold.
Oh, this is the devil!" Lewis held his peace. He had forgotten the solidity of Marker's reputation. "What's the chances of the place?" Thwaite was asking. "I know your numbers and all that, but are they anything like prepared?" "I don't know," said Holm miserably. "They might get on all right, but everybody is pretty slack just now.
Word Of The Day