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Updated: June 2, 2025
Foster-father was a wise man, so to avoid further discussion he stepped out and shut the door behind him. Thus for a minute or two there was peace. Then Foster-father's voice rose urgently from outside. "Open! I say open! Quick!" Foster-mother flew to obey, and her husband staggered in, bearing some one in his arms. "God send the boy be not dead," he said as he laid down his burden.
He went by the name of Thomas Norman, the Christian division of his foster-father's, according to custom. The old fellow laughs at the joke, as he calls it, and tells 'em, when they stick it to him, they don't understand the practice of making money. You must keep a bright look out for him, Manuel you'll know him by the niggers running when they see him coming."
The warm, impulsive spirit speaks in every action of his life, from the hour when a young child, in exile he strikes his axe into the skull of his foster-father's murderer, to the last grand scene near Svalderoe.
So he shrieked with delight, and dropped the reins to clap his hands, as he always did when he was pleased. Now this was the very best thing he, or anybody else, could have done. The mare, feeling herself free, thought better of it, and wheeling round dropped her fore feet on the path once more. Foster-father's loud Arabic thanksgiving ended in an equally loud order. "Get off the mare, woman.
The year following Flea's and Flukey's fourteenth birthday the boy was taken into his foster-father's trade of thieving. At first he was allowed only to enter the houses and deftly unbar the door for an easier egress for Eli Cronk and Lem Crabbe. Later he was commanded to snatch up anything of value he could.
He would try and keep their intercourse upon the friendly basis upon which his last sad visit home had placed it; would as far as possible, put himself in his foster-father's place and see things as he saw them. How desolate the widowed man had seemed in the big, empty house during those chill, sorrow-stricken, February days!
For Foster-father's suspicions had been correct, and he had been sent to try and entice the child by some of Prince Kumran's partisans who, booted and spurred, and with a swift pacing camel for the child, were waiting eagerly for the return of their messenger. Their faces fell as he flung the little cap upon the ground. "The old fox is too wary," he said. "We must get at the child some other way."
The handsome boy was the son of the thane Thorsten Vikingsson; the little girl, with dove-like eyes and silken tresses, was the daughter of good King Belé. Together the little ones played through the long pleasant days in their foster-father's garden, or wandered through the woods, or climbed the hills that sheltered them from the northern winds.
'Nay, now, Sir Knight, he cried, 'tell not your tale until the hours of dark have passed. At her foster-father's words Undine sprang angrily from the footstool and stood before him. Her eyes flashed and grew larger, colder. 'You say to the stranger not to tell his tale, father, she cried, 'you say to him not to answer me.
He knew that his foster-father's patience was exhausted, and that he could expect nothing more from him, and he soon proved himself incapable of self-support. He drifted from New York to Baltimore, often without knowing where his next meal was coming from, and finally, at Baltimore, his father's widowed sister gave him a home, and he soon married her fragile daughter, Virginia Clemm.
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