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Ronald looked at his wife as a dog looks at the maddened sheep that turns on him. "You mean?" repeated the stationer. "Upon my soul what next? You mean? Where is the money to come from? Answer me that." Mrs. Ronald declined to be drawn into a conjugal dispute, in the presence of her daughter. She took Emma's arm, and led her to the door. There she stopped, and spoke.
"Does any one else know of this folly?" asked Lord Earle, angrily. "No, you may be quite sure, father, I should tell you before I told any one else," replied Ronald. They looked at him in silent dismay, vexed and amazed at what he had done irritated at his utter folly, yet forced to admire his honor, his courage, his truth.
Ronald and Himself, guide-books in hand, walked away to talk about the 'Burial of Sir John Moore, and look for Wolfe's tablet, and I stole behind the great screen which had been thrown up while repairs of some sort were being made or a new organ built.
On learning from Malcolm that he and Ronald were passengers, and were Scotsmen making their way from England to escape imprisonment as friends of the Stuarts, and that he had for twelve years served in one of the Scotch regiments of Louis, and was now bound for Paris, the officer said that they were free to continue their journey at once.
Ronald was a tall, pale, gentle, weakly, enthusiastic young fellow of nineteen, with so marked a predisposition to lung disease that it had not been thought well to let him run the chance of over-reading himself; and so he had to be content with remaining at home in the uncongenial atmosphere of Epsilon Terrace, instead of joining his two elder brothers at the university.
Scarcely had they got twenty yards from the shore, when a voice hailed in French, "Yes, you were before us; don't wait bon soir," answered Ronald, promptly, in the same language. They pulled out as fast as they could, and got on board a a large half-decked boat, with her sails on board, and pulling eight oars. The question was now, how to get out of the harbour.
On one occasion a certain Ronald of Aberardair was a guest in Donald's house, and Donald's wife said, "Though I put butter on the table for you tonight, it will just be dirtied". "I will go with you to the butter-keg," said Ronald, "with my dirk in my hand, and hold my bonnet over the keg, and he will not dirty it this night."
It contained only the words: "She has not taken the veil; she is at the convent of Our Lady at Tours." The next morning Ronald and Malcolm set out on their journey to Tours. Arrived at Tours, Malcolm took a quiet lodging in a retired street.
When the officers were satisfied that no fugitives were concealed on board they returned to shore, and the vessel started on her voyage for London. On arriving in London, after ten days' voyage, Ronald and Malcolm obtained garments of the ordinary cut.
'Twelve months' hard labour, Berkeley answered, slowly and remorsefully. 'An atrocious sentence! Ronald exclaimed, turning red with excitement. 'An abominable sentence! A most malignant and vindictive sentence! Who was the judge, Arthur? 'Bassenthwaite, Berkeley replied half under his breath. 'And may the Lord have mercy upon his soul! said Ronald solemnly,
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