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Brock's depression was short-lived. His optimism and faith banished gloomy thoughts. The ship had hardly dropped the last headland of the Irish coast when the winds bred in Labrador awoke the Viking strain in him and filled his soul with hope.
Take this account of the death of Captain Berners as written by Corporal S. Haley, of the Brigade of Guards, in a letter published by the Star: "Captain Berners, of the Irish, was the life and soul of our lot. When shells were bursting over our heads he would buck us up with his humor about Brock's displays at the Palace. But when we got into close quarters it was he who was in the thick of it.
Brock's brother, Savery, a paymaster to the brigade, though by virtue of his calling exempt from field service, insisted on joining the fighting line, acting as aide to Sir Ralph Abercrombie. Every record, every line written or in print concerning Brock, from first to last, all prove that the keynote of his success, the ruling impulse of his life, was promptness and action.
Well, would you belief that Tougal paid in four shillings in silver one Monday, and one shilling in coppers, for he took up the collection in church the day pefore, and it wass not till Tougal had gone away that the jailer saw that one of the coppers was a Brock copper, a medal, you will understand, made at General Brock's death, and not lawful money of Canada at all.
He drew a deep breath of relief as he descended the house steps relief at having escaped the friendly greeting of the morning, from the one human creature whom he loved! He entered the shrubbery with Mr. Brock's letter in his hand, and took the nearest way that led to the major's cottage.
He explained swiftly, while over Brock's face a gentle smile beamed and widened into subdued chucklings. "Here's Sergeant Clancy coming along the trench," said Riley. "You have the notion now, so play up to me, and make sure Clancy hears every word you say." "I want to see that General of theirs the Bosche prisoner spoke about," said Riley, as Clancy came well within earshot.
Then the governor tossed a folded paper over to the oil man, saying, 'There is your deed to the choicest piece of property in all Gaston, and you've got it dirt cheap. I came away at that." Elinor's sigh was almost a sob; but Miss Van Brock's eyes were dancing. "Go on, go on," she exclaimed. "That is only the beginning." Kent's smile was of reminiscent weariness. "I found it so, I assure you.
Brock's memory, traveling forward toward the present from that point, picked up the second event in its turn, and stopped next at the year eighteen hundred and forty-five. The fishing-village on the Somersetshire coast was still the scene, and the characters were once again Mrs. Armadale and her son. Through the eight years that had passed, Mr.
If we are to be parted again, it must be his doing or yours not mine. The dog's master has whistled," said this strange man, with a momentary outburst of the hidden passion in him, and a sudden springing of angry tears in his wild brown eyes, "and it is hard, sir, to blame the dog when the dog comes." Once more Mr. Brock's humanity got the better of Mr. Brock's caution.
Sicklop, Brock's one-eyed confederate, who, about three hours after the above adventure, was lolling in the yard of the "Three Rooks." It was our Ensign, with the mother of his captive. They had not met with any accident in their ride. "I shall now have the shooprame bliss," said Mr. Macshane, with much feeling, as he lifted Mrs.
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