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Updated: June 24, 2025
"'Em got a stream down, and all a rest of he anchors stowed," said the black, whose dark eye was glancing understandingly at the vessel, while he still continued to east his pebbles into the air: "S'pose he jam a helm hard a-port, misser Harry, and take a tide on he larboard bow, what you t'ink make him kick and gallop about! Golly!
Gregory gave his black hand an honest shake, and said, "Why, Jeff, old fellow, what is the matter with you to-night? The last time I saw you you looked as if you were driving me to the cemetery." "Well, Misser Gregory," said Jeff, ducking and shuffling. "Ise did come mighty neah takin' de turnin' to de cem'try dat day. I tho't you looked as if you wanted to go dar."
"No: he off riding. He take long, long rides, sometime gone all day. Sometime he go on lake, paddle, paddle in the morning, very, very early, in night when the moon shine; sometime stay in house, and read, and study, and write, he great scholar, Misser Kirkwood." "A good many books, has n't he?" "He got whole shelfs full of books.
The old servant put down the empty tray, adjusted his spectacles, and examined it carefully. "What's dis, Marsa George?" "A thousand dollars, Chad." "Golly! Monst'ous quare kind o' money. Jes a scrap. Ain't big enough to wad a gun, is she? An' Misser Englishman gib ye dis for dat ole brier patch?" Chad was trembling all over, full to the very eyelids. The colonel held out his hand.
They going kill you." "That's about the way I was figuring it," mused Dean Drake. "Misser Dlake," said the Chinaman, with appealing eyes, "I velly solly you. They no hurtee me. Me cook." "Sam, there is much meat in your words. Condensed beef don't class with you. But reserve your sorrows yet a while.
"Look here!" he said hotly. "I've told you twice I don't know you. You just stand clear and let us pass." By this time the remainder of the party had come up. "Why, 'ere's Misser Fosbe'ton," continued the man, with a tipsy leer. "Now I jus' ask you, sir, if these two gen'lemen don't owe me some money for a drink." Raymond's face flushed crimson, and then turned white.
"De colonel an' Misser Fizpat'ic bofe waitin' for you, sah," said that obsequious darky, preceding me through the dark passage. I followed, mounted the old-fashioned wooden steps, and fell into the outstretched arms of the colonel before I could touch the knocker. "Here he is, Fitz!" and the next instant I was sharing with that genial gentleman the warmth of the colonel's fire.
Den we run for dat man, an' in one hour two, mebbe we come here. I t'ink dat ribber he twist, sar." Then, so swiftly that it shocked, out of the forest stumbled another of the Barang's seamen, panting, thorn-slashed, and frightened. "Oh, sar!" he gasped, "Cap'n Barry an' Misser Li'l, an' all mans dey pris'ner in de woods, an' de gol' washers dey all kill, sar!"
"Never mind," answered Jack stoutly; "he won't interfere with us." The man, who had reeled into the hedge, suddenly staggered back into the middle of the road, and stood there barring the way. "'Ello! Misser Fenleigh," he began, "'ow're you to-night, sir?" Jack stared at the speaker in astonishment, and then recognized him as the same man who had spoken to them in Melchester.
Secondly, as a person would say, now there's Miles, lost too, for the ship is sartainly gone down, Neb: otherwise, she would have been seen floating hereabouts, and we may log him as a man lost overboard." "P'rhaps not, Misser Marble," said the negro. "Masser Mile swim like a fish, and he isn't the gentleum to give up as soon as trouble come. P'rhaps he swimming about all dis time."
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