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Updated: May 5, 2025
He had not regarded his daughter or spoken to her since his words at their first meeting; and now, still ignoring Phoebe's presence, he began eagerly debating with Billy Blee as to what law might have power to do. The girl, wisely enough, kept silence, ate a little food, and then went quietly away to her bed.
"If you mean my son-in-law, he 's not out of bed to my knawledge." "Dear sawls! Doan't 'e say 't is blue murder doan't 'e say that!" implored Mr. Blee. His head shook and his tongue revolved round his lips. "Not as I knaws. We 'm actin' on instructions from the military to Plymouth."
Blee then shouldered his ancient weapon, the other veteran marched beside him, and the rest of the company followed in the direction of Chagford Bridge. They proceeded across the fields; and along the procession bobbed a lantern or two, while a few boys carried flaring torches.
Now Boughton Hill rises abruptly beyond the village of Dunkirk, and it may well be that this and not the tiny hamlet nearly a mile to the south of the great Way, was Chaucer's Boghton under Blee, where the Canon and his yeoman overtook the "joly companye," and rode in with them to Canterbury. And it is there at Mad Tom's corner that we first catch sight of the glorious city of St Thomas.
As yet her father had not spoken to Phoebe or pretended to any knowledge of what was doing; but there came a night, at the end of November, when John Grimbal, the miller, and Billy sat and smoked at Monks Barton after Phoebe's departure to bed. Mr. Blee, very well knowing what matter moved the minds of his companions, spoke first. "Missy have put on a temperate way of late days it do seem.
Blee, that before the younger veteran she had almost feared for her life, and been driven to accept him out of sheer terror at his importunity. But when facts came to her ears afterwards, she found that Mr. Lezzard was in reality all he had declared himself to be, and therefore returned to him, threw over Mr.
Upon Chagford Bridge appeared Miller Lyddon and Mr. Blee. The latter had been whitewashing the apple-tree stems a course to which his master attached more importance than that pursued on Old Christmas Eve and through the gathering dusk the trunks now stood out livid and wan as a regiment of ghosts. "Heard from your brother since he left?" Mr. Lyddon inquired after evening greetings.
There came an afternoon in late March when Mr. Blee returned to Monks Barton from Chagford, stamped the mud off his boots and leggings, shook his brown umbrella, and entered the kitchen to find his master reading the Bible. "'Tis all set down, Blee," exclaimed Mr. Lyddon with the triumphant voice of a discoverer.
"You must knaw he runned away an' went soldiering before he married me. Then he comed back for love of me wi'out axin' any man's leave." "So much the worse, ma'am; he'm a desarter!" "The dark wickedness!" gasped Mr. Blee; "an' him dumb as a newt 'bout it all these years an' years! The conscience of un!" "Well, you needn't trouble any more," continued Phoebe to the policemen.
"Very onhandsome of 'e, Mr. Grimbal," declared the stout Chappie; "an' you so young an' in the prime of life, tu!" Here Phoebe met them, and Mr. Blee, observing the signs of tears upon her face, supposed that anxiety for him had wet her cheeks, and comforted his master's child. "Doan't 'e give way, missy. 'T is all wan, an' I ban't 'feared of the tomb, as I've tawld 'em.
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