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Updated: April 30, 2025
Sharp attended, and also William McBean, a notary-public, and David Laird, captain of the ship Thames, which was to have conveyed Strong to Jamaica, in behalf of the purchaser, John Kerr. A long conversation ensued, in which the opinion of York and Talbot was quoted. Mr. Sharp made his observations.
"You would have him deeper dipped in your mad treasons? I think you have done him harm enough." He struck his bell. "Harm?" McBean cried. "Is it harm? You that begat him for the heir to your damned infamy? You that soured him with your husk of a soul and your cold cunning? You that made a dirt-heap of his life to suit your muddling need? You "
If you be a gentleman, which you make incredible, you may proceed in order and I'll consider if I may do you the honour to meet you." "Gentleman? Bah, I am Hector McBean, Captain in Bouffiers' regiment. Come, sir, now are you warmer?" He struck Mr. Waverton across the eyes. Mr. Waverton, drawing back, turned again upon Alison: "My God, did you bring your bullies here to murder me?"
He always thought, I believe, that Captain McBean was a little mad, and liked him none the better for it. But he confessed that with the madness there was allied a most persuasive mind, a very reasonable reason. The combination may not be so surprising to you as to Harry Boyce.
Waverton had gone out, and then impressed by the evidence of haste and the martial elegance of McBean, suggested that my lady might receive the gentleman. "How? The animal has a mother?" says Me Bean in French, and shrugged and beckoned the butler closer. "Now, my friend, could you make a guess where I should look for Mr. Waverton?" and money passed. "Sir, Mr.
It's a pitiful affair, altogether, as it has turned out; the honor being little more than the profit, I opine; and yet 'twill never do to let old Scotia lag astairn, in a hand-to-hand battle, Ye'll remember; we have a name for coming to the claymore; and so do yer best, every mither's son o' ye." McBean grunted assent, and went about his work as methodically as if it were a sum in algebra.
Harry made a wry face, swallowed a mouthful and lay back out of breath. After a while, "You were here all night, weren't you?" he said. "I am body physician to the family of Boyce, mon brave." "My father?" "Has a hole in his shoulder, praise God, and a damned paternal temper. He will do well enough." "How do you come into it?" McBean grinned. "Who were they?" "I am here to talk to you, mon cher.
Ye'll all be doing your best in the way of eyes, and we may get the lugger alone. 'Twould be such a pity, Mr. McBean, to divide by three, when the sums might be kept entire!" Such was the state of feeling with which each of these three officers entered on his present duty.
"It's the boy, mordieu!" he cried. "In effect, Captain McBean, it's the boy," says Colonel Boyce, who was trying to fix a pad of handkerchief on his own wound. McBean was down on his knees beside Harry, handling him gently. "Twice through the body, by God," says he. "What does this mean, Boyce? Damme, did you set your fellows on him?"
Harry stared at him, and after a moment stood up. "I can do nothing," he said. "It is of all things most unlikely that I should do anything. For what I know, my father is dead. He has been nothing else to me all my life. But I believe I should thank you." "Well!" quoth McBean. "God help you. I ha' drawn a bow at a venture. I think I have hit something, Mr. Boyce."
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