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"Ah yes poor Mrs. Pearce will be glad of lodgers. Poor soul, poor soul." "She's a very dirty soul," said Robin; and Priscilla's eyes flashed over him with a sudden sparkle. "Is she the soul with the holes in its apron?" she asked. "I expect there are some there. There generally are," said Robin. They both laughed; but the vicar gently shook his head.

Thus did Captain Clapperton see himself bereft of his comrades, and left to pursue his journey in very painful and distressing circumstances, with only Richard Lander as his servant, who stood by him in all his fortunes, and Pascoe, not a very trusty African, whom he had hired at Badagry. Two days after the interment of Captain Pearce, Mr.

"Can they both have been murdered" were words which fell in a hoarse whisper from the pallid lips of the detective. Vance at the first glance concluded that Pearce was the victim of the vengeance of the smugglers, and if they would kill the old man they would not spare the girl.

Though my knowledge was all by touch as, for example, when Pyecroft led my surrendered hand to the base of some bulging sponson, or when my palm closed on the knife-edge of the stem and patted it timidly yet I felt lonely and unprotected as the enormous, helpless ship was withdrawn, and we drifted away into the void where voices sang: Tom Pearce, Tom Pearce, lend me thy gray mare, All along, out along, down along lea!

Well, my friend, it stands you in hand to give an account of yourself, and explain your presence here, or tomorrow's sun will never rise before your eyes!" "Will you men explain why I am assailed this way?" "My friend, Tom Pearce, has been found in his cabin unconscious!" The detective gave a start, and a shudder passed over his stalwart frame.

"If you're up all night, sir," replied the boy, laughing, "you'll want a cup of coffee in the morning watch. I shall come in for my share of that, you know." "Ah, well, it's an ill wind that blows nobody good," observed Pearce, "but you are young to be selfish." "Indeed I am not selfish, sir," replied the boy, hurt at the rebuke from one who had been kind to him, and to whom he was attached.

"Reckon I figgered wrong, boss," replied Pearce. "He looked sick to me, but game," said Handy Oliver. "Kells is right, Red, an' you've been sore-headed over nothin'!" "Mebbe. But ain't it good figgerin' to make Cleve do some kind of a job, even if he is on the square?" They all acquiesced to this, even Kells slowly nodding his head.

"Well, it's time he was here." The answer caused a laugh. Rigby saw that the men were not satisfied, and he sought to change the subject. He said: "So old Pearce is dead?" "He is." "Where's the girl?" "That's more than we'll tell you." "I always thought Renie's good looks would bring trouble to someone sooner or later," said Rigby.

"But he was drownded in the Evening Star" ses Joe Morgan. Bill Flurry didn't answer 'im. He poured out pretty near a tumbler of whisky and offered it to Mrs. Pearce, but she pushed it away, and, arter looking round in a 'elpless sort of way and shaking his 'ead once or twice, he finished it up 'imself. "It couldn't 'ave been 'im," ses George Hatchard, speaking through 'is handkerchief.

There was one, however, waiting for him outside the palace, as fine and officer-like looking man as any of those present in admirals' or post-captains' uniforms his father, and the knowledge of the intense delight his promotion gave him, greatly added to the satisfaction Pearce felt on the occasion.