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Updated: June 16, 2025
How pleasant to hear her telling Master Jack, 'Your illustrious grand-uncle the pope's legate, was the man who burned Rose Salterne at Cartagena; or Miss Grace, 'Your great-grandfather of sixteen quarterings, the Marquis of this, son of the Grand-equerry that, and husband of the Princess t'other, used to feed his bloodhounds, when beef was scarce, with Indians' babies! Eh, mother?
St. Leger the hostess, and her sister-in-law, fair Lady Grenville. All chatted, and laughed, and eyed each other's dresses, and gossiped about each other's husbands and servants: only Rose Salterne kept apart, and longed to get into a corner and laugh or cry, she knew not which. "Our pretty Rose seems sad," said Lady Grenville, coming up to her.
"Yes," said Sir Richard, after Amyas, in his blunt simple way, had told him the whole story about Rose Salterne and his brother, "yes, sweet lad, thou hast chosen the better part, thou and thy brother also, and it shall not be taken from you. Only be strong, lad, and trust in God that He will make a man of you." "I do trust," said Amyas.
Leigh worked day and night at clothes and comforts of every kind; Amyas had nothing to give but his time and his brains: but, as Salterne said, the rest would have been of little use without them; and day after day he and the old merchant were on board the ship, superintending with their own eyes the fitting of every rope and nail.
and his infidel and ungodly slander against the impias rates, and their crews. And as it died away, the shipping in the river made answer with their thunder, and the crowd streamed out again toward the Bridge Head, whither Sir Richard Grenville, and Sir John Chichester, and Mr. Salterne, the Mayor, led the five heroes of the day to await the pageant which had been prepared in honor of them.
"To tell you the truth, I cannot rest till I have heard the whole story about poor Rose Salterne." "What about her?" cried Eustace. "Do you not know?" "How should I know anything here? For heaven's sake, what has happened?" Amyas told him, wondering at his eagerness, for he had never had the least suspicion of Eustace's love. Eustace shrieked aloud. "Fool, fool that I have been!
"Ockment leapt from crag and cloud Down her cataracts, laughing loud." The voice of the stream recalled these words to Amyas's mind. The nymph of Torridge had spoken them upon the day of his triumph. He recollected, too, his vexation on that day at not seeing Rose Salterne. Why, he had never seen her since. Never seen her now for six years and more!
Supper-time came, and he did not appear. The apprentices could not make him answer, and at last called in the neighbors, and forced the door. Salterne was kneeling by his daughter's bed; his head was upon the coverlet; his Prayer-book was open before him at the Burial Service; his hands were clasped in supplication; but he was dead and cold. His will lay by him.
Leigh. "I am but a burgher, Mrs. Leigh, and you a lady of blood; but I am too proud to let any man say that Simon Salterne threw his daughter at your son's head; no; not if you were an empress!" "And to speak truth, Mr. Salterne, there are young gallants enough in the country quarrelling about her pretty face every day, without making her a tourney-queen to tilt about."
"Fill my men's stomachs for them, and never mind mine. It's market-day, is it not? Send out, and see whether Mr. Cary is still in town;" and Amyas strode out, and along the quay to Bridgeland Street, and knocked at Mr. Salterne's door. Salterne himself opened it, with his usual stern courtesy. "I saw you coming up the street, sir. I have been expecting this honor from you for some time past.
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