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Updated: June 4, 2025
The stricken Brooker babbled hideously.... "Colonel ... for mercy's sake!..." "I could not oblige the gentleman with a blanket, Mr. Brooker, but I relieved him of his rifle and left him, to tell his picket a cock-and-bull story of having been drugged and hypnotised by Boer spies. And I will overlook it upon the present occasion, but in War-time, Mr. Brooker, men have been shot for less.
Finding an excuse in the presence of Brooker, whom they knew not how to dispose of without consulting his wishes, they concluded to act upon this resolution before going to bed. Wherein Nicholas and his Sister forfeit the good Opinion of all worldly and prudent People On the next morning after Brooker's disclosure had been made, Nicholas returned home.
Brooker, as a Government store. You may feel more chilly without it; you'll certainly sleep more lightly. As far as I can see, it has been more useful outside of you than ever it was in. And the safety of this town depends on the cool heads of the defenders who man the trenches. A fuddled man behind a gun is worse than no man to me." The voice rang hard and clear as a gong. "I'm no teetotaller.
"Very sorry, Private Brooker, but unless the Sergeant has brought his Testament along, you'll have to give your information in the ordinary way. So they drugged you or hypnotised you or both, was it? and took away your rifle. Of course you saw it done?" "No, sir, I did not see it done. When I woke up ..." "Ah, when you woke up! Please go on."
In the midst of a dead silence, Ralph sat down, pressing his two hands upon his temples. He removed them, after a minute, and never was there seen, part of a living man undisfigured by any wound, such a ghastly face as he then disclosed. He looked at Brooker, who was by this time standing at a short distance from him; but did not say one word, or make the slightest sound or gesture.
Brooker died penitent. Sir Mulberry Hawk lived abroad for some years, courted and caressed, and in high repute as a fine dashing fellow. Ultimately, returning to this country, he was thrown into jail for debt, and there perished miserably, as such high spirits generally do. The first act of Nicholas, when he became a rich and prosperous merchant, was to buy his father's old house.
Sands his sugar and brown-papers his teas philanthropically, for the good of the public, and denounces men who put in Old Squareface and whisky-pegs, as he fuddles himself with his loquat brandy after shop-hours in the sitting-room back of the store. But let us be thankful that Providence has sent Brooker on a special mission to play Pantaloon in this grimmish little interlude of ours.
I think I need not detain you further. Your rifle has been sent to your headquarters with my card and an explanation. One word more, Mr. Brooker " Brooker, grey, streaky, and desperately wretched, was blind to the laughter brimming the keen hazel eyes.
The dying man went on: "It's a privilege, sir, an inestimable privilege, to have shed one's blood in a great cause." "It is, Mr. Brooker, but this is different stuff." His keen face wrinkled with amusement as he sniffed, and dipped a finger in the crimson puddle. "Too sticky." He put the finger to his tongue "and too sweet. Show him the bottle, Saxham."
Do you know he is a convict, a felon, a common thief? 'Hear what he has to tell you. Oh, Mr Nickleby, hear what he has to tell you, be he what he may! cried the brothers, with such emphatic earnestness, that Ralph turned to them in wonder. They pointed to Brooker. Ralph again gazed at him: as it seemed mechanically. 'That boy, said the man, 'that these gentlemen have been talking of
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