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Subordinate to Perrott, the office of Governor of Connaught was held by Sir Richard Bingham founder of the fortunes of the present Earls of Lucan and that of President of Munster, by Sir Thomas Norris, one of four brothers, all employed in the Queen's service, and all destined to lose their lives in that employment.
We may find him later in the same war in 1584 serving under Perrott and Norris, along the Foyle and the Bann, for the expulsion of the Antrim Scots.
The treacherous capture of this youthful chieftain was one of the skilful devices on which Sir John Perrott most prided himself. Although a mere lad, the mysterious language of ancient prophecy, which seemed to point him out for greatness, give him consequence in the eyes of both friends and foes.
"And all those people down there going to sleep," Hewet began dreamily, "thinking such different things, Miss Warrington, I suppose, is now on her knees; the Elliots are a little startled, it's not often they get out of breath, and they want to get to sleep as quickly as possible; then there's the poor lean young man who danced all night with Evelyn; he's putting his flower in water and asking himself, 'Is this love? and poor old Perrott, I daresay, can't get to sleep at all, and is reading his favourite Greek book to console himself and the others no, Hirst," he wound up, "I don't find it simple at all."
Perrott would have said almost anything that Evelyn wanted him to say, but to assert that he believed in the immortality of the soul was not in his power. He sat silent, more deeply wrinkled than usual, crumbling his bread. Lest Evelyn should next ask him what he believed, Arthur, after making a pause equivalent to a full stop, started a completely different topic.
Still sponging them and trembling slightly she turned and explained in the high pitched voice of nervous excitement: "Alfred Perrott says I've promised to marry him, and I say I never did. Sinclair says he'll shoot himself if I don't marry him, and I say, 'Well, shoot yourself! But of course he doesn't they never do.
If it had not been for troops on the high road, and for the stillness of the coverts, and for the recruiting posters stuck everywhere on the barn-doors, and for the strange figure of old Perrott driving the mail-cart from Midhurst to Amershott instead of his son, you wouldn't have known that the war had anything to do with England.
"Suppose I thought it over and wrote and told you when I get back? I'm going to Moscow; I'll write from Moscow." But Mr. Perrott persisted. "You cannot give me any kind of idea. I do not ask for a date . . . that would be most unreasonable." He paused, looking down at the gravel path. As she did not immediately answer, he went on.
Playing this game they lost their stiffness, and even became unusually daring, for Mr. Perrott, who was very shy, said, "Permit me," and removed an ant from Evelyn's neck. "It would be no laughing matter really," said Mrs. Elliot confidentially to Mrs. Thornbury, "if an ant did get between the vest and the skin."
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