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Updated: June 5, 2025
It pleased him: Carterette had been worthy of herself, and of him. Ranulph had played his game well too. He only failed to do justice to the poor beganne, Dormy Jamais. But then the virtue of fools is its own reward.
"Let me bandage the wound," she said eagerly. Her eyes were alight with compassion, certainly not because it was the dissipated French invader, M. Savary dit Detricand, no one knew that he was the young Comte de Tournay of the House of Vaufontaine, but because he was a wounded fellow- creature. She would have done the same for the poor beganne, Dormy Jamais, who still prowled the purlieus of St.
"That poor Maitre Ranulph," said Dormy, "once he was lively as a basket of mice; but now " "Well, now, achocre?" she said irritably, stamping her foot. "Now the cat's out of the bag oui-gia!" "You're as cunning as a Norman you've got things in your noddee!" she cried with angry impatience. He nodded, grinning. "As thick as haws," he answered.
The boy's father wanted to punish him for not remembering what he learned at school, when his mother said just what Dormy here said, that everything went in one ear and out of the other. Then they both looked sad, and the mother rubbed her eyes until the tears came. I couldn't stand that. If there's one thing in the world I can't stand it's other people's sorrows.
Ranulph called again, and yet again, and now at last Dormy recognised the voice. With a growl of mingled reassurance and hunger, he lifted down the iron bar from the shutters. In a moment Ranulph was outside with two loaves of bread, which he put into Dormy Jamais's arms. The daft one whinnied with delight. "What's o'clock, bread-man?" he asked with a chuckle. Ranulph gripped his shoulders.
Neither of his fellow-voyagers made reply, and for a time there was silence, save for the swish of the gunwale through the water. But at last Jean said: "Su' m'n ame, but it is good this, after that!" and he jerked his head back towards the Fair-ground on the hill. "Even you will sleep to-night, Dormy Jamais, and you, my wife of all."
I'll tell only you and the wind that hears and runs away." "I must speak to my father first," answered Ranulph. "Come with me, I've got him safe," Dormy chuckled to himself. Ranulph's heavy hand dropped on his shoulder. "What's that you're saying my father with you! What's the matter?" As though oblivious of Ranulph's hand Dormy went on chuckling.
The sun had gone down, the dusk was creeping on, and against the dark of the north there was a shimmer of fire a fire that leapt and quivered about the Paternoster Rocks. Dormy pointed with his finger. Ghostly lights or miracle of Nature, these fitful flames had come and gone at times these many years, and now again the wonder of the unearthly radiance held their eyes.
Andrew Wilmore rose slowly to his feet and emerged from behind the sheets of an evening paper. He laid his hand upon the shoulder of a friend, and glanced towards the door. "Ledsam's had a touch of nerves," he confided. "There's been nothing else the matter with him. We've been down at the Dormy House at Brancaster and he's as right as a trivet now. That Hilditch affair did him in completely."
Every one in the Dormy House was sound asleep. He made his way back to his own apartment without difficulty. Only the little man remained seated at the window, with his eyes fixed upon the bank of murky clouds which lowered over the sea. Isabel Worth leaned back in the comfortable seat by Granet's side and breathed a little sigh of content.
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