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"Well, Bluenose, hoo d'ye find yerself to-day?" inquired Supple Rodger one fine morning, as the Captain sauntered slowly along the beach in front of his hut, with his hands deep in the pockets of his pilot-coat. "Thankee, I amongst the middlings. How's yerself?" "I like myself," said Rodgers; "how's old Jeph?"
There also his eldest and his third daughters married; the younger, Matilda Lauder, in June 1877, becoming the wife of William Lennox Cleland, of Adelaide, South Australia; the elder, Isabella Jessie, that of James Rodger, M.D., of Aberdeen, in April 1878. The whole of the period at Craighouse was one of active literary as well as official life.
An account of this incident is given by an eye-witness, Mr. Peter Rodger, Procurator-Fiscal, who says: "The prisoner, thinking it a good chance of escaping, made a movement in direction of the door. This Sir Walter detected in time to descend from the Bench and place himself in the desperate man's path.
Counting on this he headed for the wild expanse of waste ground lying to the north of Deal, already mentioned as the sand hills. Here he knew that there would be no one to interfere between him and his antagonist. Tommy Bogey thought of this too, as he sped along, and wondered not a little at the temerity of Supple Rodger in thus, as it were, placing himself in the power of his enemy.
The 25 of May in the evening we came to the suburbs of Lisbon at the very entrance whereof Sir Rodger Williams calling Captaine Anthony Wingfield with him, tooke thirty shot or thereabouts, and first scowred all the streets till they came very neere the town; where they found none but old folks and beggars, crying, Viua el Rey Don Antonio, and the houses shut vp: for they had caried much of their wealth into the towne, and had fired some houses by the water side, full of corne and other prouisions of victuals, least we should be benefited thereby, but yet left behinde them great riches in many houses.
"There is no other claimant, I presume?" "None. The only other kinsman whom we have been able to trace was Rodger Baskerville, the youngest of three brothers of whom poor Sir Charles was the elder. The second brother, who died young, is the father of this lad Henry. The third, Rodger, was the black sheep of the family.
It does not do to be too keen. "It's a good un," Wilford said with pride. "It's a Rodger, mind ye two blades." "Name yer price," Patsey condescended, after a deliberate examination. "Lemme ride all week, ord'rin' and deliv'rin'." "Not much, I won't," Patsey declared stoutly. "You can ride three days for it." Wilford began to whimper, but just then the butcher cart whirled around the corner.
Bursting the fastenings of the front window Long Orrick leaped out into the street. Supple Rodger dashed aside the man who was about to follow and leaped after him like an avenging spirit. All the men but two were over the window before Coleman gained it.
Rodger turned sharply round, intending to give an angry defiance to the speaker; but seeing that it was only Reuben Drew, a white-haired old shoemaker of small stature, he burst into a sarcastic laugh. "Well, I don't deny," he said, "that there may be many men as could throw me, but I defy any of 'ee now present to do it."
"My inquiries show beyond all question that the family portrait did not lie, and that this fellow was indeed a Baskerville. He was a son of that Rodger Baskerville, the younger brother of Sir Charles, who fled with a sinister reputation to South America, where he was said to have died unmarried.
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