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Come on, now." "Hoo-hoo" went the owl again, and at this, the third summons, we distinctly heard many horses' hoofs coming at a gallop towards us, though at a considerable distance. "Marah! Come on, man!" cried several voices. "Come on," said Marah, dragging me to the horses. "Off, boys," he called. "Scatter as you ride," Many horses moved off at a smart trot up the hill to Stoke Fleming.
And this was the course of his thought: "Ira Warfield and Marah Rocke are here in the same town brought hither upon the same errand to-morrow to meet in the same court-room! And yet not either of them suspects the presence of the other! Mrs. Rocke does not know that in Capitola's uncle she will behold Major Warfield! He does not foresee that in Clara's matronly friend he will behold Marah Rocke!
"Friend wilt thou give me shelter here? The stranger meekly saith My life is hunted! evil men Are following on my path." Marah Rocke sat by her lonely fireside. The cottage was not changed in any respect since the day upon which we first of all found her there. There was the same bright, little wood fire; the same clean hearth and the identical faded carpet on the floor.
To me it seemed bitterly cold outside the inn, I shivered till my teeth chattered. Marah asked me if I had a touch of fever, or if I were ill, or "what was it, anyway, that made me shiver so?" I said that I was cold. "Cold!" he said. "Cold? Why, it's one of the hottest nights we have had this summer. Here's a youngster says he's cold!"
I took mine from Marah, who, being a sailor, thought that a soldier was something too silly for words. As we drifted I went back to Marah to bathe his head with water and to give him drink. He was not conscious; he had even ceased babbling; I was afraid that he could not live for more than a few hours at the most.
We were tearing along at a great pace and there were two men at the tiller: Marah was driving his boat in order to "make a passage." We leaped and shook, and lay down and rushed, like a thing possessed; our sails were dark with the spray; nearly every man on board was wet through. By-and-by Marah called me to him and took me by the scruff of the neck with one hand.
"Heaven grant it, my child! Heaven grant it! Oh, those Le Noirs! those Le Noirs! Were there ever in the world before such ruthless villains and accomplished hypocrites?" said Marah Rocke, clasping her hands in the strength of her emotions. A long time yet they talked together, and then they retired to bed, and still talked until they fell asleep in each other's arms.
"But how did he put them on us last night?" said another smuggler. "We had drawed them out proper to Bolt Tail to look for a cargo there. Properly we had drawed them. Us had a boat and all, showing lights." "Well, if it was the parson who done it, he'd easily find a way," said Marah. "We had better go over and see about it"
I struggled up to a sitting position, feeling great pain in my head. Marah lying over the tiller was the next thing which I saw; he was dead, I thought. Then I realised what had happened; we had had a fight.
He was an Italian by birth, so Marah told me. He was known as Gateo. When he was sober he was a good seaman, but when he was drunk he would do nothing but sing of Captain Glen until he dropped off to sleep. He had served in the Navy, Marah told me, and had once been a boatswain's mate in the Victory; but he had deserted, and now he was a smuggler living in a hole in the earth.
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