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Updated: May 17, 2025
From that moment Jesse's destiny was decided. Sir Robert's gardener, a clever Scotchman, took great notice of him and offered to employ him at the Hall; but the Moors had to poor Jesse a fascination which he could not surmount. He felt that it would be easier to tear himself from the place altogether, than to live in the neighbourhood and not there.
"It's all utterly impossible, of course," said Rob's mother, in turn, her mouth closing tightly as she looked around at her son. Mrs. Wilcox said less, but kept her hand on Jesse's shoulder. "What would you do at night with no one to see you safe in bed, my son?" said she, at length. "Oh, mother!" began Jesse, shamefacedly. "I'll take care of the boys," said Uncle Dick, at length.
Blicky was gray of face and wild of aspect. "Jesse's come!" he yelled, hoarsely, at Kells. "He jest fell off his hoss all in! He wants you an' all the gang! He's seen a million dollars in gold-dust!" Absolute silence ensued after that last swift and startling speech. It broke to a commingling of yells and shouts. Blicky wheeled his horse and Kells started on a run.
"Blicky!" exclaimed the tall man. "Kells, there's news. I seen Jesse's hoss." Kells let out a strange, exultant cry. The excited talk among the men gave place, to a subdued murmur, then subsided. Blicky was running a horse up the road, hanging low over him, like an Indian. He clattered to the bench, scattered the men in all directions. The fiery horse plunged and pounded.
Eventually Captain Bonhomme had rowed ashore, and the Marquis's bags, boxes, writing-desk, and fiddle were loaded into the small boat and taken off to The Southern Cross. It appeared from Jesse's report that the Captain had been sufficiently polite, and had attributed the misunderstanding of his men to their inability to speak English. They had not gotten their orders for the Marquis.
If I could take it and garb it properly work it up into a systematic whole and string it on the thread of Uncle Jesse's romance of lost Margaret, it would be the novel of the year. Do you suppose he would let me do it?" "Let you! I think he would be delighted," I answered. And he was. He was as excited as a schoolboy over it.
Their stern Calvinism taught them that Jacob's and Jesse's families were not likely to be the only ones in which the younger sons should be chosen for vessels of honor; and Will Promoter, the eldest of the brothers, spoke for all, when he said, "Send Davie to Aberdeen, fayther; gladly we will a' of us help wi' the fees; and may be we shall live to see a great minister come oot o' the fishing boats."
They all laughed at Jesse's story, but John admitted he would be sorry when all the bighorn mutton was gone, declaring it to be the best meat he had ever eaten. Rob expressed wonder at the way the meat was disappearing. "I remember, though," said he, "that Sir Alexander Mackenzie tells how much meat his men would eat in camp.
For they were strong and beautiful, these sons of Jesse, who had Ruth as their not remote ancestress, and the mother-qualities live long and tell through many generations. Of Jesse's many sons, David was the youngest. His early life was spent as was that of other boys belonging to his class and period.
"Only for Jerry's strange absence, I'd feel bully," remarked Frank. "Don't you think we'd better start out and look for him?" asked Will. "Yes, after we've had some breakfast. I never like to attempt anything on an empty stomach. And, besides, you see, we may have to go all the way over to Jesse's shack before we learn about him," observed Frank.
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