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Updated: July 16, 2025
She pointed to the beach below, where Chatfield, now fully overcoated and shawled again, had mounted a ridge of rock, and while gazing intently at the vessel, was exchanging remarks with Vickers, who had evidently said something which had alarmed him. They caught Chatfield's excited ejaculations as they hurried over the sand. "Don't say that, Mr. Vickers!" he was saying imploringly.
Chatfield's creased cheeks and heavy jowl had become white as chalk; great beads of sweat rolled down them; his mouth opened and shut silently, and suddenly, as he raised his hands and wrung them, his knees began to quiver.
And so Audrey and I pocketed our pride, and went to see Peter Chatfield. But Peter Chatfield, like his master, had gone! He had left home the previous evening, and his house was locked up." Copplestone and Vickers exchanged glances, and the young solicitor signed Mrs. Greyle to proceed. "Then," she added, "to add to that, as we came away from Chatfield's house, we met Mr.
Chatfield's like all scoundrels of his type a horrible coward if a pistol's held to his head. Now they've got him, they'll force him to disgorge. Hang this compulsory inactivity! my nerves are all a-tingle to get going at things!" "Let's occupy ourselves with the things our generous gaolers have been kind enough to send us, then," suggested Audrey. "We'd better carry them up to our shelter."
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