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Updated: September 27, 2025
Report says, bravest of men, that you have given freedom to my betrayed uncle. "The moment Lord Ruthven's person was secured, his estates were seized, and my aunt and myself being found at Alloa, we were carried prisoners to this city. Alas! we had then no valiant arm to preserve us from our enemies!
Lord Ruthven's strength rapidly decreased; in two days mortification ensued, and death seemed advancing with hasty steps.
The toe of his boot was not worn and battered, as Clowes would have liked to have seen it. Evidently he had not chosen to adopt active and physical measures for the improvement of Ruthven's moral well-being. "Well?" said Clowes. "My word, what a hound!" breathed Trevor, half to himself. "My sentiments to a hair," said Clowes, approvingly. "But what have you done?" "I didn't do anything."
To say that he was badly wounded hardly describes the case; an R.A.M.C. orderly afterwards described his appearance with painful picturesqueness as "raw meat on a butcher's block," and indeed it is doubtful if the stretcher-bearers who lifted him from the shell-hole would not rather have left him lying there and given their brief time and badly needed services to a casualty more promising of recovery, if they had seen at first Private Ruthven's serious condition.
It was very late that night when Lucy summoned Valencia to comb out her long, thick curls, and Valencia was tired, and cross, and sleepy, handling the brush so awkwardly and snarling her mistress's hair so often that Lucy expostulated with her sharply, and this awoke the slumbering demon, which, bursting into full life, could no longer be restrained; and, in amazement, which kept her silent, Lucy listened while Valencia taunted her "with standing in Anna Ruthven's shoes," and told her all she knew of the letter stolen by Mrs.
Mr Ruthven's weekly letters became more hopeful after the third one, and soon Will wrote himself, a few feeble, irregular lines, telling how his friend had watched over him, and cared for him like a brother, during all those weeks in his dreary, city lodging; and how, at the first possible moment, he had taken him home to his own house, where Mrs Millar, his mother, was caring for him now; and where he was slowly, but surely, coming back to life and health again.
He scanned our resolute little party, and looked helplessly at the sullen, scowling faces of his own men. "I yield to force of arms," he said hoarsely; "but I protest against this unjustifiable outrage. Lagarde, bring the fellow out!" The storekeeper had meanwhile returned to the room, and now, at Ruthven's bidding, he entered an apartment in the rear and partly closed the door behind him.
Ruthven's comment reached Ashe through his stream of memories. "I thought you required at least three more months to conclude personnel training," Waldour observed. Ruthven lifted a fat hand, running the nail of a broad thumb back and forth across his lower lip in a habitual gesture Ashe had learned to mistrust.
While at Mrs Ruthven's house Helsa should make no complaints to anybody else; or, if she had serious complaints to make, it should be to Macdonald. Helsa pleaded that Macdonald would then perhaps take away the anker of spirits, as being at the bottom of the mischief; and then Lady Carse would kill her. She had once shown her a pistol; but nobody could find that pistol now.
"Well, he certainly was worth their time and trouble, wasn't he?" James Ruthven's voice was a growling rumble. He sucked in thick lips, continuing to stare at the disks. "How long ago were these snooped?" Ashe's thoughts turned swiftly from the enormity of the betrayal to that important point. The time element that was the primary concern now that the damage was done, and they knew it.
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