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Smivvle here." "Now by heaven," began Barrymaine passionately, "I tell you " "And I tell you that these are my only conditions," said Barnabas. "Accept them and you may begin a new life. It is in your power to become the man you might be, to regain the place in men's esteem that you have lost, for if you are but sufficiently determined, nothing is impossible."
"Sir," continued the stranger, removing the curly-brimmed hat with a flourish, and bowing over the partition as well as he could, "you don't happen to be a sailor Royal Navy, do you?" "No, sir," answered Barnabas. "And your name don't happen to be Smivvle, does it?" "No, sir," said Barnabas again.
And, sure enough, hurried feet were heard ascending; whereupon Mr. Smivvle uttered a startled exclamation, and, motioning Barnabas to be seated in the dingiest corner, strode quickly to the door, and thus came face to face with Ronald Barrymaine upon the threshold. "Why, Barry!" said he, standing so as to block Barrymaine's view of the dingy corner, "so you've come back, then?"
"My God, Beverley!" he cried, "how comes he like this what has happened?" "Are you his friend?" "Yes, yes, his friend certainly! Haven't I told you the hand of a Smivvle, sir " "Tonight he killed Jasper Gaunt." "Eh? Killed? Killed him?" "Murdered him though I think more by accident than design." "Killed him! Murdered him!" "Yes. Pull yourself together and listen.
Chichester's pale face, while Barnabas leaned, twisted in his chair, and Mr. Smivvle busied himself with the oblong box. With shaking hands he took out the duelling-pistols, one by one, and laid them on the table. "We'll g-give him first choice, eh, Dig?" said Barrymaine. "Ah he's chosen, I s-see. Now we'll t-take opposite corners of the room and f-fire when you give the word, eh, Dig?"
And indeed, at that moment the legs of the Gentleman-in-Powder might have been descried descending the stair rather more pompously than usual. As soon as they had become stationary, Mr. Smivvle directed a glance at the nearest, and addressed it. "James!" said he. The Gentleman-in-Powder became lost in dreamy abstraction, with the exception of his legs which worked slightly. Hereupon Mr.
Fell asleep brandy, perhaps, and ha, your pardon, sir!" and Ronald Barrymaine rose, somewhat unsteadily, and, folding his threadbare dressing-gown about him, bowed, and so stood facing Barnabas, a little drunk and very stately. "This is my friend Beverley, of whom I told you," Mr. Smivvle hastened to explain. "Mr. Barnabas Beverley, Mr. Ronald Barrymaine." "You are welcome, sir," said Mr.
My friend Barry, sir, was a dasher, by George! a regular red-hot tearer, by heaven! a Go, sir, a Tippy, a bang up Blood, and would be still if it were not for the Jews curse 'em!" "And is Mr. Barrymaine still a friend of yours?" At this Mr. Smivvle took off his hat again, clapped it to his bosom, and bowed.
"Very!" said Barnabas; "but " "Saw you from the yard, sir, immediately struck by close resemblance; flew here, borne on the wings of hope, sir; you 're quite sure your name ain't Smivvle, are you?" "Quite sure." "Ah, well mine is; Digby Smivvle, familiarly known as 'Dig, at your service, sir. Stranger to London, sir?" "Yes," said Barnabas. "Ha! Bad place, London, sink of iniquity!
"The word, Dig will you give us the word?" "Yes, yes, Barry, yes, my dear boy certainly!" But still Mr. Smivvle hesitated, and ever the small sound grew bigger and louder. "S-speak! Will you s-speak, Dig?" "Oh, Barry my dear boy, yes! Ready?" At the word the two pistols were raised and levelled, almost on the instant, and with his haggard eyes turned towards Barrymaine's corner, Mr.
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