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Updated: July 28, 2025
I was standing in the corner of the room, nodding for want of sleep, when he took up the shovel and beat me with it; he dislocated my shoulder, and sprained my wrist, and broke the shovel over me. I ran away, and got another person to hire me. This person was Mr. Richard Furley, who, after that, hired me at the court house every year till my master came of age.
He travelled down to the Temple land found Miles Furley in a room hung with tobacco smoke and redolent of a late night. "Miles," Julian declared, as the two men shook hands, "I can't rest." "I am in the same fix," Furley admitted. "I sat here till four o'clock. Phineas Cross came around, and half-a-dozen of the others. I felt I must talk to them, I must keep on hammering it out.
"But then we've made up our mind to one thing no general election during the war. Afterwards, I shouldn't be at all surprised if Unionists and Liberals and even Radicals didn't amalgamate and make one party." "To fight Labour," Furley said grimly. "To keep England great," Mr. Stenson replied.
This was done both by Robert Barclay and William Penn in works, which defended other principles of the Quakers, and other peculiarities in their language. One of the arguments, by which the use of the pronoun thou was defended, was the same as that, on which it had been defended by Stubbs and Furley, that is, its strict conformity with grammar. The translators of the Bible had invariably used it.
"I am an Englishman and a patriot," Furley continued, "just as much as you are, although you are a son of the Earl of Maltenby, and you fought in the war. You must listen to me without prejudice. There are thoughtful men in England, patriots to the backbone, trying to grope their way to the truth about this bloody sacrifice. There are thoughtful men in Germany on the same tack.
"Do your essays in journalism," the Bishop asked politely, "ever lead you to touch upon Labour subjects, Julian?" "Once or twice, in a very mild way," was the somewhat diffident reply. "I had an interesting talk with Furley this morning," the Prime Minister observed. "He tells me that they are thinking of making an appeal to this man Paul Fiske to declare himself.
"Don't bother about the doctor for a moment," Furley begged. "Listen to me. Take your torch go out and examine that bridge. Come back and tell me what's wrong with it." "What the dickens does that matter?" Julian objected. "It's the doctor we want. The dyke's flooded, and I expect the supports gave way." "Do as I ask," Furley insisted. "I have a reason."
"You had no idea, then," Julian persisted, "what it was that you were on the look-out for the night before last? You had no idea, say, from any source whatever, that there was going to be an attempt on the part of the enemy to communicate with friends on this side?" "Good God, no! Even to have known it would have been treason." "You admit that?" Furley drew himself stiffly up in his chair.
"You can't have much doubt about that," was the composed reply. "I shall go to town to-morrow and hand it over to the proper authorities." Julian rose to his feet as he spoke. Furley looked at him helplessly. "How in heaven's name, man," he groaned, "shall I be able to make you see the truth!"
"You're a man, for all the starch in you, Julian," Furley declared. "If anything were to happen to that girl, I'd wring Fenn's neck." "I think she's safe for the present," Julian pronounced. "You see, she isn't in possession of the incriminating document. I took it from her when she was in danger of arrest." "What are you going to do with it?"
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