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Updated: May 15, 2025
"Hela! and you go to the highest bidder. I'll do it, fellow! To actually own a Carlyle of Bucclough will be a sweet revenge." "You mean," I asked, dimly grasping his purpose, "that you propose buying me when we reach shore?" "Why not? A most excellent plan; and I owe it all to a brat I met in London. Egad! it will be some joke to tell when next I visit England.
I can think of no other reason for his interference. I knew nothing of his action." "I am glad it became my privilege to tell you. Besides, Captain Carlyle," simply, "it may also help you to understand my interest. If you are of the Carlyles of Bucclough, how happened it that you went to sea?" "Largely necessity, and to some extent no doubt sheer love of adventure.
I felt that I could understand the interest exhibited by Dorothy Fairfax, and, greatly as I already admired her, I was not egotist enough to even imagine that her effort to serve me had basis in any personal attraction. My connection with Bucclough, coupled with her uncle's report of my conviction, had very naturally aroused the girl's sympathy in my behalf.
One of the brood out of Bucclough?" "A cadet of that line," I managed to admit, wonderingly. "You know of them?" "Quite as much as I care to," his tone ugly and insulting. Then an idea suddenly occurred to his mind. "Saint Guise, but that would even up the score nicely. You are, as I understand it, sent to Virginia for sale?" "Yes." "For how long a term?" "The sentence was twenty years."
Good God! not Bucclough was it he, the Duke?" "Yes; it was whispered about that the King was in his debt some word of honor, and dare not refuse. The word of mercy came just in time, ordering Jeffries to commute your sentence. At first he swore he'd hang you, King or no King, but his nerve failed. My uncle said he roared like a bull. This Bucclough; is he not your friend?"
There was no doubting his position, and there surely must be some reason for it outside of anything which had occurred on board the Romping Betsy. His words had given me some inkling of the cause a past quarrel with the Duke of Bucclough, in England, in which he must have been worsted, and which had left in his mind a lurking desire for revenge.
"Then I will make you; 'tis naught to me anymore; for I am dead within the hour. You go back to England, and tell him; tell the Duke of Bucclough how his precious sister died." "His sister! Good God, you cannot mean that woman was Lady Sara Carlyle?" "Who should know better than I?" sneeringly. "Once I was called in England, Sir John Collinswood."
Because I've bought your services for a term of years, is no reason why you cannot talk to me like a man. Do you know anything about this Spaniard?" "Not very much, sir. He has seen fit to threaten me, on account of some row he has had with a brother of mine in England." "In England! The Duke of Bucclough?" "Yes.
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