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Updated: June 4, 2025
Then I remembered the follet, and ran upstairs as hard as I could put my feet to the ground: never was I in such a fright! "The sick lad died on the following night." Here Carden the elder stopped, and Jerome, his son, philosophised on the subject. Miss Dendy, on the authority of Mr. Elijah Cope, an itinerant preacher, gives this anecdote of similar familiarity with a follet in Staffordshire.
The young man's name was Follet; and while we had never had any conversation with him, excepting while selling a few articles which he required from the store, we had taken a strong prejudice against him, although upon what ground we could not really tell.
"O, I am positive on that score, because my uncle had about a thousand ounces of gold, in nuggets and fine dust, buried under one corner of his tent, and the treasure is gone," cried Follet, eagerly. "You are certain of that, I suppose?" Fred asked.
Boswell has oddly described M'Cruslick, the being whose name was conferred upon this gentleman, as something between Proteus and Don Quixote. It is the name of a species of satyr, or esprit follet, a sort of mountain Puck or hobgoblin, seen among the wilds and mountains, as the old Highlanders believed, sometimes mirthful, sometimes mischievous.
But in that I had done him injustice; for in a few moments he debouched from yet a third approach. Ching Po had evidently doubled, somehow, and baffled him. I rose to meet him, and he slowed down to take me on. By this time the peaceful water front had absorbed the Chinaman; and if Stires was at home, the two were face to face. I made this known to Follet. "Give me back my pistol," he panted.
I lived in a tiny bungalow with an ex-ship's cook whom I called Joe, and several thousand cockroaches. I had hired Joe to cook for me, but his chief duty soon became to keep the cockroaches out of my bedroom. As a matter of fact, I usually dined at Dubois's hotel or at some private house. Why so idle a person as I should have looked down as I did, from the first on Follet, I cannot explain.
As Félicité Maür had seen, in her time, things that no self-respecting maison de santé would stand for, I began to believe that I should have to do something. I rose reluctantly. I was about fed up with Ching Po, myself. I helped Madame Maür out of her chair, and fetched my hat. Then I looked for Follet, to apologize for leaving him.
There had been some sense, of a dirty sort, in his talk to me; but more wine had scattered his wits. I took Schneider home, protesting to myself that I would never be so caught again. He lurched rather stiffly along, needing my help only when we crossed the unpaved roads in the darkness. Follet went ahead, and I gave him a good start.
Day after day passed, and we were impatient to hear from Murden. Mr. Brown had put his police to work to find out the accomplice of Follet, but all attempts to discover him had proved futile. Follet still remained obstinate and defying; and to add to our misery, our patient was hovering between life and death, and it seemed as though a feather would turn the scale either way.
Sherwin said; and then lowering his voice, he continued, "May I hope that you will remind his excellency that I deserve a better position than the one that I now hold?" The commissioner looked gratified, while Mr. Brown grinned with delight. "What shall we do with the wounded man, and this young fellow, Follet?
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