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There was a pause; then Steve Dagg emerged. "Major, I ain't either stragglin' or desertin'. I was just seperated I got seperated last night. The regiment's jes' down there I crept down an' saw it jes' now. I'm goin' back an' join right away send me to hell if I ain't! though Gawd knows my foot's awful sore " Stafford regarded him closely. "I've seen you before. Ah, I remember!
Others seriously did incline to search for certain intruders along the seams of shirt and trousers; others merely lay on their backs and looked up into Heaven. Billy Maydew was one of these, and Steve Dagg overturned the contents of a knapsack. It was well filled, but with things Steve did not want.
She did not eat with relish, but almost as if she were forcing herself, lest any lack of appetite might be observed and commented upon, and her looks continually wandered as though in search of some lurking enemy; for in truth no woman, nor man either, could easily forget the suggestion which had recently been brought to her knowledge, that an assassin might "lurk in her gallery and stab her with his dagger, or if she should walk in her garden, he might shoot her with his dagg, or if she should walk abroad to take the air, he might assault her with his arming sword and make sure work."
That night in Strasburg, when the stars came out, men looked toward those that shone in the east. Steven Dagg, waked by the shrill reveille, groaned, raised himself from his dew-drenched couch, ran his fingers through his hair, kneaded neck, arms, and ankles, and groaned more heavily yet. He was dreadfully stiff and sore. In five days the "foot cavalry" had marched more than eighty miles.
A Thunder Run man Steven Dagg testified that he had been separated from the regiment. Returning to it along the wooded bank of the creek, he arrived just behind the courier. He heard him give the order to the colonel. 'Could he repeat it? 'Yes. He did so, and it was, accurately, Jackson's order." "Richard what did Richard say?" "He said the man lied." "Ah!"
He was half way to the gate, Sairy after him, and they were the first to welcome Steve Dagg back to Thunder Run. Tom Cole forgot that he had no opinion of Steve anyway. Sairy pursed her lips, but a soldier was a soldier. Steve came and sat down on the edge of the porch, beside the china asters, "Gawd! don't Thunder Run sound natural!
"He ain't my best witness, sir. He's got a grudge against me " Stafford looked at him. "Don't put yourself in a fury over it. Have you one against him?" "I have," said Steve, "and I don't care who knows it! If he was as steady against you, sir, as he has proved himself against me " "I would do much, you mean. What is your name?" "Steven Dagg." The woman returned. "They've eaten it all, sir.
He air 'a petty tyrant. He air that, and Thunder Run don't like that kind. He air not going to tyrannize much longer over Billy Maydew. And don't you be comparing me to Steve Dagg. I ain't like that, and I never was." He lay prone again, insulted, and would not go on with the lesson. Allan took it calmly, made a placating remark or two, and lapsed into a friendly silence.
The detection of Somerville, a fanatic who had received the Host before setting out for London "to shoot the Queen with his dagg," was followed by measures of natural severity, by the flight and arrest of Catholic gentry and peers, by a vigorous purification of the Inns of Court where a few Catholics lingered, and by the despatch of fresh batches of priests to the block.
His young face was set, his eyes alight. Iron-sinewed he ran easily, without panting. "I air a-goin'," he announced, "I air a-goin' to put this here one in the place of that thar one." "'T isn't going to be easy work," said Allan soberly. "What's the use of ducking, Steve Dagg? If a bullet's going to hit you it's going to hit you, and if it isn't going to hit you it isn't "
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