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Updated: May 31, 2025
Had he met them after a like interval at home, he would have given them a cooler greeting; but he had travelled so many miles that they seemed not to have met for quite a long time. "My friend, Mr. Sercombe," he said, jerking his head toward the gig. Mr. Sercombe raised his POT-LID the last fashion in head-gear and acquaintance was made. "We'll drive on, Sercombe," said Valentine, jumping up.
Christian and Sercombe could not but admire the straightforwardness of the brothers; their conventionality could not prevent them from feeling the dignity with which they acted on their convictions. The quixotic young fellows ought not to be cut for their behaviour! They could not court their society, but would treat them with consideration!
Come!" gasped Sercombe at length, after many attempts to get out which, the bystanders easily foiled " you don't mean to drown me, do you?" "We mean to drown your bad language. Promise to use no more on this peat-moss," returned Rob. "Damn the promise you get from me!" he gasped.
Alister avoided the blow, but soon found himself a mere child at such play with the Englishman. He had not again touched Sercombe, and was himself bleeding fast, when Ian came up running. "Damn you! come on!" cried Sercombe when he saw him; "I can do the precious pair of you!"
He resolved, therefore, one of the next moonlit nights, to stalk by himself a certain great, wide-horned stag, of whose habits he had received information. At Oxford, where Valentine made his acquaintance, Sercombe belonged to a fast set, but had distinguished himself notwithstanding as an athlete.
Sercombe did not believe she would, and waited. He took her departure for a mere coquetry. But when a rather grim, handsome old woman appeared, asking him it took the most of her English "What would you be wanting, sir?" as if he had just come into the shop, he found himself awkwardly situated.
"There is not a girl of the clan, or in the neighbourhood, for whom my brother would not have done the same." said Ian. "You're a brace of woodcocks!" cried Sercombe. "It's well you're not out in the world. You would be in hot water from morning to night! I can't think how the devil you get on at all!" "Get on! Where?" asked Ian with a smile. "Come now! You ain't such fools as you want to look!
"Protection! Oh! What the devil would you protect her from?" "From you, Mr. Sercombe." "Protect her, then." "I will. Force yourself on that young woman's notice again, and you will have to do with me." They parted. Alister went home. Sercombe went straight to the shop.
Sercombe was one of those who regard themselves as respectable because they are prudent; whether they are human, and their brother and sister's keeper, they have never asked themselves. To some minds neither innocent nor simple, there is yet something attractive in innocence and simplicity.
Alister had been waked by the gun, and at the roar of his friend Hector, sprang from his bed. When he saw his beloved stag dead on his pasture, he came down the ridge like an avalanche. Sercombe stood on his defence, wondering what devil was to pay, but beginning to think he might be in some wrong box. He had taken no trouble to understand the boundaries between Mr.
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