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Updated: June 14, 2025
"Not in my boat, John Drillot," cried Peter. "Not in my boat. I've had enough of him, pardi!" and he set off at speed for the boat. "Don't be a fool, Peter. You, Evan Morgan, run down and stop him going. Come on, John Trevna," and after peering cautiously down to make sure the dead man had not moved, they dropped into the well again. The shrivelled figure was very light, as Trevna had found.
Pull close up, Philip " "Not in my boat, John Drillot!" from Peter. "We must take this to the Sénéchal," said John angrily. "If you don't want to come you can wait here. If you don't make less noise, I will knock you on the head myself," and he jumped down into the boat, and took the dead man from Trevna, and laid him carefully in the bows.
"Gad'rabotin, but they take their time, those two!" said John Drillot, impatiently, outside. "It iss going right through to Wailee, I do think," growled Evan Morgan inside.
It was a finer cordial than their own, so they sat drinking them turn about, and watching the sun set, and chatting spasmodically, till it grew too dark to do more than sit still with safety. They were by no means drunk, but the spirits had made them heavy, and when John Drillot solemnly suggested that they should keep watch about, Peter Vaudin as solemnly agreed, and offered to take first duty.
When Evan Morgan's wriggling legs came slowly out of the tunnel, John Drillot and Peter Vaudin were almost dancing with excitement, and their first surprise was the sight of him when, by rights, John Trevna should have been the one to come out first. "Well then? What have you done? And where is John Trevna?" cried John Drillot. "Ach! He iss a fool.
However, they put off, and Nance crouched in the bracken and watched all their doings. She had long since caught sight of John Drillot and Peter Vaudin sitting on the rock wall, and wondered what kind of a hiding-place Gard could possibly have found therein. A poor one, she feared, and that the end would be quick.
But on L'Etat the sound of many waters never ceases night or day, and the night wind hummed among the stones of the shelter, and, as it happened, John Drillot had just lurched over in avoidance of a lump of rock which was intruding on his comfort, and in so doing had lodged his heavy boot in Peter Vaudin's ribs, and so their sonorous duet was stilled, and neither of them was very sound asleep, when Gard, after listening anxiously and hearing nothing, dropped on his hands and knees and felt cautiously inside.
Peter felt the blind hand groping in the dark, and was wide awake in an instant. He hurled himself at the intruder, as well as a man could who had been lying back against the wall half asleep a moment before; and Gard turned and sped away along the side of the ridge, with Peter at his heels and John Drillot thundering ponderously in the rear. "What is't, Peter boy?" shouted John. "It's him.
"There's ghosts on L'Etat, they do say, though sure the one John Drillot brought across was dead enough." "If he's there," said the other, plumbing Julie's feelings, "he's safe as a pig in a pen." "Where's our Peter?" demanded Mrs. Guille. "Peter? I d'n know. What's come of him?" and they stared blankly at her.
Elie Guérin and ma fé Judith Drillot! Now that's odd, for I always thought " "Perhaps they're Only pretending," I murmured, and Carette kicked her little heels into Gray Robin's ribs so hard that she nearly fell off at his astonished jump. "B'jou, Judi! B'jou, Elie! Good luck to you!" she cried, as they drew rein alongside, their faces radiant with smiles both for themselves and for us.
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