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Updated: June 8, 2025
Very early this morning, a gardener walking through the grounds at Woodbury Manor, and passing by a little lake or fishpond, saw the body of a man lying in the water, which at this point was not three feet in depth. He drew the corpse to the bank, and, in so doing, recognised his acquaintance, Mr. Fouracres, with whom he had spent an hour or two at a public-house in Woodbury on the evening before.
In the month of September His Royal Highness would be a guest at Woodbury Manor, distant only some couple of miles from the Pig and Whistle. It was the excitement of such a prospect which had led Mr. Fouracres to undue indulgence under the apple-tree this afternoon. A week later Mr.
'It won't be easy to manage the Pig and Whistle all alone. 'I'm afraid not, sir. 'Besides, you couldn't live here in absolute solitude. It wouldn't be safe. 'I shouldn't quite like it, sir. 'But I'm sure you wouldn't like to leave the Pig and Whistle, Miss Fouracres? 'I'd much rather stay, sir, if I could any way manage it. Mr. Ruddiman drew a step nearer.
Fouracres' person was in a limp state; his cheeks were very highly coloured, and his head kept nodding as he muttered to himself. At the visitor's greeting he looked up with a sudden surprise, as though he resented an intrusion on his privacy. 'It's very hot, Mr. Fouracres, the under-master went on to remark with cordiality. 'Hot? I dare say it is, replied the landlord severely.
Ruddiman looked and felt uncomfortable. 'I'll come again very soon, Miss Fouracres, he said. 'You might just speak to your father about the room. 'Thank you, sir. I will, sir. And, with another uneasy glance, which was not returned, the under-master went his way. Descending towards Longmeadows, he thought over the innkeeper's story, which may be briefly related. Some ten years before this Mr.
And it's no good you nor anybody else The effort of repeating the Prince's utterance with what was meant to be a princely accent proved so exhausting to Mr. Fouracres that he sank together in his chair and lost all power of coherent speech. In a moment he seemed to be sleeping. Having watched him a little while, Mr.
Rushing out to see what was the matter, he found Miss Fouracres in agitated talk with a man on horseback. 'Ah, what did I say! she cried at sight of the guest. 'Didn't I know something was going to happen? I must go at once I must put in the pony 'I'll do that for you, said Mr. Ruddiman. 'But what has happened? The horseman, a messenger from Woodbury, told a strange tale.
People began to say that the Prince had never been near the town at all, and that evidence could be produced of his having passed the whole day at the house where he was a visitor. Mr. Fouracres smiled disdainfully; no assertion or argument availed to shake his proud assurance that he had entertained the Heir to the Throne. From that day he knew no peace.
'Not a bit of it. I'm very glad, indeed, to be useful; I assure you I am. 'But your dinner, sir? 'Why, there's cold meat. Don't you worry, Miss Fouracres. I'll look after myself, and the house too; see if I don't. Go at once, and keep your mind at ease on my account, pray do! 'It's very good of you, sir, I'm sure it is. Oh, I knew something was going to happen! Didn't I say so? Mr.
To his daughter he had spoken only a few cold words, and his last bidding to her was 'Take care of the pothouse! This treatment gave Miss Fouracres much pain, for she was a softhearted woman, and had never been anything but loyal and affectionate to her father all through his disastrous years. Moreover, she liked the Pig and Whistle, and could not bear to hear it spoken of disdainfully.
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