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"Spanish spy!" "Murderer!" they screamed. "Who gave evidence against our Dirk? Who sold his brother to the rack?" Then came another shriller note. "Kill him." "Hang him up by the heels and stone him." "Twist off his tongue," and so forth. Out shot a hand, a long, skinny, female hand, and a harsh voice cried, "Give us a keepsake, my pretty boy!"
"Now, you long-eared walrus, you're in a position to play fair. What are you going to do about it?" He reined away, out of Dirk's reach, took his handkerchief and wrapped his own gun tightly to protect it from sand, and threw it after Dirk's gun and the knife. "Am I a snooping coyote?" he demanded watching Dirk. "You air. More 'n all that, you're a damned spy!
Mildred Caniper's head had slid from the pillow and lay on her outstretched arm; the other arm, slender and round as youth, was thrown outside the bed-clothes, and only when Helen bent quite low could she see the frown of trouble between the brows. Then, feeling like a spy, she returned to the darkness of the landing where Phoebe and Jane and Christopher were wondering what she did.
"Why do you travel about the earth?" asked his mother: "is it that you may spy out the poverty of the people and see how miserably they live?" "No," said I, "it is that I may become acquainted with the people, whether they are poor or not." "But," she continued, "did you ever see a people poorer than we?"
'Truly, your Excellency, I am guilty... it's the first time, your Excellency, the first time, believe me! 'You furnished no other documents? 'The first time, your Excellency,... my wife... my children... have mercy.... 'But you are a spy. 'My wife... your Excellency... my children.... The general felt a twinge, but there was no getting out of it.
I had no means of ascertaining how many there were in the organisation, and something warned me not to display too much interest in Bryce's presence. When I walked down the path and discovered him backing the car into his garage I made no comment on the situation beyond telling him that the spy had gone temporarily out of business and was at present taking a constitutional down the street.
"Mamma has sent the officers after us," wailed Eleanor. "Let's go home," said the waiter. "I didn't agree to stay out all night." "Agree? Aha, I see. You are a spy!" cried Joe. "A spy? I guess not. I'm a witness." "It's the same thing," cackled Mr. Van Truder. "You're a spy witness." "Joe, isn't this fellow your witness?" demanded Carpenter. "I should say not. Mr. Van Truder is mine."
If that spy had been caught in his English uniform inspecting English defenses, would not everything have been kept quiet in the endeavor to pick up the lines of his foreign communications? In writing home from England, even to my family, toward the close of 1914, I thought it just as well to be brief and not too definite with any information.
This then was the spy chosen by Jesus Christ to go out first of all the ministers of Scotland into the life of banishment in that day, so as to try its fords and taste its vineyards, and to report to God's straitened and persecuted people at home. To begin with, it must always be remembered that Rutherford was not laid in irons in Aberdeen, or cast into a dungeon.
There is no happiness if Jabaster breathe; nor can I be the same Schirene to thee as I have been, if this proud rebel live to spy my conduct. 'Banish him, banish him! 'To herd with rebels. Is this thy policy? 'O Schirene! I love not this man, although me-thinks I should: yet didst thou know but all! 'I know too much, Alroy. From the first he has been to me a hateful thought.
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