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"A young clergyman from London the Reverend Gilling," continued the landlady. "Been ill for some time, and his doctor has recommended him to try the north coast air. So he came down here, and he's going to stop awhile to see how it suits him." "I should have thought the air of the north coast was a bit strong for an invalid," remarked Copplestone.
It was not from any idle curiosity that Copplestone made up his mind to await the girl's nearer approach. There was no other human being in view, and he was anxious to get some information about the rocks whose grim outlines were rapidly becoming faint and indistinct in the gathering darkness.
And yet you see that honourable soldier, that brave and true-hearted gentleman, Captain Copplestone, does not think me the wretch I seem to be. "Captain Copplestone is a man who allows himself to be guided by his instincts and impulses, and who takes a pride in differing from his fellow-men. I am a man of the world, and I am unable to form any judgment which is not justified by facts.
Sir Cresswell tapped him on the shoulder. "I want you to do me a favour," he said. "I shall take it as a kindness if you will. I don't want to talk about certain ideas which Petherton and I have about this affair, yet, anyway not even to you but we have formed some ideas this afternoon. Now, do you think you could manage to stay where you are for a week or two?" "Here?" exclaimed Copplestone.
Oliver was that of course! and on the other hand, Marston Greyle is not a common name. Did you ever hear the name before, Mr. Copplestone?" "Only in connection with your own family I have read of the Greyles of Scarhaven," replied Copplestone. "But, after all, I suppose it is not confined to your family. There may be Greyles in America. Well it's all very queer," he went on, as he rose to leave.
Copplestone Bampfylde; which our hero agreeing to, he went the next day, and the following, to sit for the picture, undisguised. When it was finished, Mr. Philips desired him to come again another time in his mumping dress, which he accordingly promised to do. After this he went to Minehead, and called on several of his old acquaintance, viz. Dr.
And supposing they did find something supposing they found Bassett Oliver's body What is it?" he asked suddenly, seeing Copplestone staring hard across the sands at the opposite quay. "Something happened?" "By Gad! I believe something has happened!" exclaimed Copplestone. "Look there men running down the hillside from the Keep. And listen they're shouting to those fellows on the other quay.
Copplestone had kept a sharp watch on Marston Greyle and his cousin when they walked off, and he had seen that they had parted at a point a little farther along the shore road the man turning up into the wood, the girl going forward along the quay which led to the other half of the village.
If Copplestone had followed his first natural impulse, he would have laughed aloud at this solemnly propounded question: as it was, he found it difficult to content himself with a smile. "Isn't it a little early to arrive at any conclusion, of any sort, Mr. Chatfield?" he asked. "You haven't made up your own mind, surely?"
"It's what evil-disposed tongues says." "But they haven't said anything yet," said Copplestone. "I should say they've said a deal, sir," responded Chatfield, lugubriously. "I know Scarhaven tongues. They'll have thrown out a deal of suspicious talk about the Squire." "Have you seen Mr. Greyle?" asked Copplestone.
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