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Updated: June 4, 2025
Colburne took Mrs. Miller back to Allanbay, after giving her a night's rest in his own hospitable home. He left her at her own cottage, and went to Mrs. Jernam's house, as he had promised the afflicted woman he would save her the pain of telling the terrible story which was to clear up the mystery surrounding the merchant captain's fate.
Jernam's spotlessly neat parlour, that parlour in which Valentine Jernam had been permitted to smoke, and had told his aunt all his adventures, little recking of the final one then so close upon him. In the parlour, Mrs.
Valentine Jernam's dark eyes wandered round the room, till they lighted on the face of the girl sitting by the piano. There they fixed themselves all at once, and seemed as if rooted to the face on which they looked.
She was pleased to have the charge of the child, and she fulfilled it to the best of her ability; but those signs and tokens of a higher station, which Susan Jernam and Rosamond recognized, were quite beyond her ken. One morning the little household at Susan Jernam's cottage, consisting only of the mistress and her maid, was roused by a violent knocking at the door. Mrs.
But I have played a desperate game I have risked all upon the hazard of this die and if I have failed I must submit to my fate. I can struggle no longer; I am utterly weary of a life that has brought me nothing but disappointment and defeat." For George Jernam's young wife, the days passed sadly enough in the pleasant village of Allanbay.
Just as day was dawning, a dog-cart, driven by a gentleman's servant, had come to her door the dog-cart was now standing at a little distance from Mrs. Jernam's house and she had been called out by the servant, and told that he had been sent to bring her over to Plymouth, with as little delay as possible.
This same process of settling down was one by no means congenial to George Jernam's disposition at any time; and he was far less likely to take to it kindly now, than when "dear old Val" as he began to call his brother in his thoughts once more, when the horror of the murder had begun to wear off, and the lost friend seemed again familiar had been the prospective sharer of the retirement which was to be so tranquil, so comfortable, and so well-earned.
Of Black Milsom, Joyce Harker had never lost sight, until his career received a temporary check by the sentence of transportation, which had sent the ruffian out of the country. But all efforts of the faithful watcher had failed to discover the missing link in the evidence which connected Black Milsom with Valentine Jernam's death.
He had lost sight of the man for some time, but when he had bought the cottage, and during the progress of the changes and improvements he had made in that unprepossessing dwelling, accident had thrown Harker in his way, and they had found much to discuss in George Jernam's prosperity, in his generous treatment of Harker, in the general condition of the merchant service, which the two men declared to be going to the dogs, after the manner of all professions, trades, and institutions of every age and every clime, when contemplated from a conversational point of view; and in the honest captain's plans, hopes, and prospects concerning his daughter.
The wife could not fail to be just a little offended by her husband's manner. The pretty rosy lips pouted, and then tears came into the bright blue eyes. George Jernam's head was bent upon his clasped hands, and he took no heed of his wife's sorrow. She could not leave him without one more anxious question. "Is there anything amiss with you, George?" she asked. "Nothing that you can cure."
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