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Updated: May 20, 2025
Tillotson, pausing at the doorway and peering through the gloom to make sure that there was nobody else present. "All alone?" "All alone," repeated Captain Gething, looking up and wondering who this might be. "It's too dark to see you far," said Tillotson, in a mysterious whisper, "but it's Captain Gething, ain't it?" "That's me," said the Captain uneasily. "Going to Northfleet?" inquired Mr.
"Wretched," said Miss Gething. "Ugh!" "I don't mind it much myself," said the skipper. "You must be very wet," said Miss Gething. "You are going to see mother, I suppose?" "I did think of doing so," said the skipper with joyous untruthfulness. "I'm going to do a little shopping," said she. "Good-bye."
"If you'll wait here a minute or two I'll go to the railway station and get my bag," said Tillotson, who wanted to confer with his chief. "I'll wait up the road under the arch," said Cap-tain Gething. "Now don't run away," said Tillotson impressively. "If you won't go by train, perhaps the schooner is the best thing we can do."
He shed one cracked hind leg in this way, and the next time he sat down had to perform feats of balancing not unworthy of Blondin himself. Until day broke did this persecuted man toil painfully along with the chair, and the sun rose and found him sitting carefully in the middle of the road, faintly anathematizing Captain Gething and everything connected with him.
At the foot of this pine was a bank of fresh earth and Gething knew that beyond the bank was the trench. He bent in his saddle and pressed his forehead against the warm neck.
"I've got a message to deliver to a man in this place and I can't find him. I wonder whether you could help me." "What's his name?" asked the other. "Captain Gething," said the skipper. The old man started, and his face changed to an unwholesome white. "I never heard of him," he muttered, thickly, trying to pass on.
"Miss Gething well?" inquired the skipper as, after accepting an invitation to a cup of tea, he noticed that she only laid for two. "Oh, yes; she's gone to London," said Mrs. Gething. "She's got friends there, you know." "Mr. Glover," said the skipper to himself with dismal intuition. "I met a friend here the day before yesterday," he said aloud. "Oh, yes Mr.
Miss Gething, after going outside to remove her hat and jacket, came in smiling pleasantly, and conversation became general, the two men using her as a sort of human telephone through which to transmit scanty ideas. "Half-past five," said Miss Gething suddenly. "Have you got to catch the 6.30 train, Mr. Glover?" "Must," said Mr. Glover dismally. "Business, you know," he added resignedly.
Annis, with her head at an uncomfortable altitude, set off with the skipper. "I'm sorry the mate wouldn't come," said the latter stiffly. After this they went on in silence along the quiet road, Miss Gething realizing instinctively that the man by her side had got a temper equal to at least a dozen of her own.
Cuddy resisted weakly, then threw up his beautiful, white-starred face as if in entreaty. "Oh, I'm " muttered Gething and let the reins lie loose on his neck, "your own way, Cuddy. Your way is better than mine. Old friend, I'll not try to stop you again." For he knew if he tried he could now gain control.
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