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Updated: June 4, 2025
Well, it wasn't so very much, but it's gone; and serve me right for being such a fool!" Just then a bell rang, and he went to answer it. "The doctor says we need not sit up, Brigley," said his master, sadly. "You are tired. I shall want you no more to-night. The nurse will get anything the doctor requires." "Beg pardon, sir," said Jerry. "Mr Frayne, sir? now?" "Sleeping, I believe, Brigley.
It is not much to kill or to die that is in the game; but that other, 'mon Dieu! Little Hammer, you see how he hide his head: not because he kill the Tarquin, that Brigley, but because he is a poor 'vaurien' now, and he once was happy and had a wife. . . . What would you do, judge honourable? . . . Little Hammer, I shake your hand so How!" But Little Hammer made no reply.
"But he would not have written to Draycott unless you had been disagreeable to him." "Oh! wouldn't he? He threatened to a year ago, when it wasn't so much. It was when he found out I'd been getting some togs from London. I expect he pumped it out of that idiot Jerry Brigley. But I'm not going to sit here exposing my affairs. Will you help me to get out of the hole?"
Keep it all well going." "I will, sir." "I've told Brigley to see that you chaps have plenty of supper and what you want to drink. I say, Smithson " "Yes, sir. Thank you for your thought of us." "Thought of you; why, of course, thought of you. You fellows have to keep the thing going. But I say " "Yes, sir." "Do I er do I look all right?" The lieutenant rose, and took a turn up and down the room.
I made all my people clear out last night, and 'spected to see it gone by mornin'. Oh, it's you, Mister Brigley. Looking for your young gent?" "Yes! Seen him?" cried Jerry wildly. "Ay, bit ago, when I were down before. He'd come down to see if the mill was safe, I s'pose." "But it was our young gent?" "I say, don't look so scared," cried the miller, good-humouredly.
"Yes; what is it? I've got my pass." Dick could not speak again for the peculiar feeling of emotion which troubled him, and the man began to frown. "Was it me you meant when you called `Jerry'?" he said. "Yes; you are Jerry Brigley." "I'm Jeremiah Brigley," was the snappish reply, "and I tell you I've got my pass. There you are." But Dick did not even glance at it, for this was a new shock.
Jerry Brigley was operating upon his master's head, a few days later, with a couple of hair-brushes, and these he used in the most dexterous manner; and the results were wonderfully different from those produced by the people who brushed one's boyish hair in the good old times.
Go and tell him you're very sorry, and shake hands." "Ah! you don't understand our ways here, Brigley. He wouldn't take the apology. He don't like me going there to practice, because it was all through young Smithson, for he hates him like poison." "Yes, or he wouldn't have said what he did," cried Jerry. "It was too bad."
"Congratulate me upon the happy turn things have taken!" groaned the tutor, wiping his moist face. "Poor boy! poor boy! I ought to have seen him again. It was more than the high-spirited lad could bear." "Yes, sir; that's it." "You back, Brigley? Was I thinking aloud?" "Yes, sir; and I heard every word." "But the police?" "They were off at once, sir.
I shall attend upon you; but, the fact is, I'm in trouble." "Humph! And you want an advance upon your wages. How much?" "No, sir," said Jerry, irritably, as he drove the bristles of one brush among the bristles of the other; "it's not that sort of trouble. It's about someone." "Lady! Why, Brigley, you're not thinking of getting married?" "Oh, no, sir! it's about about a gent I mean a man, sir.
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