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Updated: June 4, 2025
Captain Johns would pop up the companion suddenly, and, sidling up in his creeping way to poor Bunter, as he walked up and down, would fire into him some spiritualistic proposition, such as: "Spirits, male and female, show a good deal of refinement in a general way, don't they?" To which Bunter, holding his black-whiskered head high, would mutter: "I don't know."
'A very solemn subject, Mr. Bunter, says he. I've given a great deal of study to it." Had Johns lived on shore he would have been the predestined prey of fraudulent mediums; or even if he had had any decent opportunities between the voyages.
At the base of the formation beneath the rock- salt occur the Lower Sandstones and Marl, called provincially in Cheshire "water-stones," which are largely quarried for building. They are often ripple- marked, and are impressed with numerous footprints of reptiles. The basement beds of the Keuper rest with a slight unconformability upon an eroded surface of the "Bunter" next to be described.
An individual who calmly tells me to my face that he is not sure if he has seen me before, either means to be impudent or is no better than a worm, sir. Yes, I said a worm a blind worm!" Brave Bunter. That was the line to take. He fairly drove the beggar out of the ship, as if every word had been a blow. But the pertinacity of that brass-bound Paul Pry was astonishing.
Bunter was a cant word for a woman who picks up rags about the street; and it may seem to later generations that the epithet fitted far more nicely the bunter muse of that "facile retailer of ana and incorrigible society-gossip," that rag-picker of anecdotes, Mr. Horace Walpole himself.
"But I think you borrowed a novel to read from the second mate the other day a trashy pack of lies," Captain Johns sighed. "I am afraid you are not a spiritually minded man, Mr. Bunter. That's what's the matter." Sometimes he would appear on deck in the middle of the night, looking very grotesque and bandy-legged in his sleeping suit.
As if the dread, the horror, the anguish of the supernatural were being exhaled through the pores of his skin, a sort of silvery mist seemed to cling to the cheeks and the head of the mate. His short beard, his cropped hair, were growing, not black, but gray almost white. When Mr. Bunter, thin-faced and shaky, came on deck for duty, he was clean-shaven, and his head was white.
Bunter's hair was absolutely black, black as a raven's wing. Add to this steely blue eyes, which in a fair-haired man would have been nothing so extraordinary, but in that sombre framing made a startling contrast, and you will easily understand that Bunter was noticeable enough.
In the very first letter she had from Calcutta, Bunter told her he had had a fall down the poop-ladder, and cut his head, but no bones broken, thank God. That was all. Of course, she had other letters from him, but that vagabond Bunter never gave me a scratch of the pen the solid eleven months. I supposed, naturally, that everything was going on all right. Who could imagine what was happening?
Bunter resumed his walk; and for a long time his measured footsteps and the low wash of the water alongside were the only sounds which troubled the silence brooding over the great waters.
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