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Updated: May 1, 2025
And now you know all I can tell you, gentlemen, and as I understand there's some mystery about Chatfield and that he's disappeared, happen you'll know how to put two and two together. And if I'm of any use " "Spurge," said Gilling. "How far is it to this Reaver's Glen or, rather to that peel tower?" "Matter of eight or nine miles, guv'nor, over the moors," replied Spurge.
This is a rare and beautiful species, of recent introduction, with large lilac-tinted, sweetly-scently flowers. D. LAUREOLA. Spurge Laurel. This is not, in so far at least as flowers are concerned, a showy species, but the ample foliage and sturdy habit of the plant will always render this native species of value for the shrubbery. It is of value, too, as growing and flowering freely in the shade.
"I've thought of that," observed Spurge. "And you can always find that much out from my cousin at the 'Admiral. He keeps in touch with me if it got too hot for me here, I should clear out to Norcaster there's a spot there where I've laid low many a time. You can trust my cousin Jim Spurge, that's his name. One eye, no mistaking of him he's always about the yard there at Mrs. Wooler's."
Not until Spurge had conducted Copplestone quite away from their late companions did he turn and speak; when he spoke his words were accompanied by a glance which suggested mystery as well as confidence. "Guv'nor!" he said. "What's going to be done?" "Have you pulled me down here to ask that?" exclaimed Copplestone, a little impatiently.
He went down the side of the curtain-wall that shuts in the ruins, taking as much cover as ever he could find at the end of the wall, he popped into the wood that stands between the ruins and his house. And then, of course, I lost all sight of him." "And Mr. Oliver?" said Copplestone. "Did you see him again?" Spurge took a pull at his rum and water, and relighted his pipe.
Upon the barren causse, besides the short turf, the gray ribs of rock, and scattered stones, little was to be seen but dark little junipers, tall broom, not yet in flower, hellebore, with bright tufts of new leaves and evil-looking green blossoms edged with dull purple, and the numberless gilded umbels of the spurge, which in springtime lend such beauty to the Southern desert.
I've work for you and Vickers at once that chap Spurge is somewhere about the 'Angel, too been hanging round there since yesterday, heavy with news that he'll give to nobody but you."
But Greyle's own solicitor was on his legs, insisting on his right to put a first question. In spite of Petherton, he put it. "You heard the evidence of the last witness? Spurge. Is there a word of truth in it?" Marston Greyle who certainly looked very unwell moistened his lips. "Not one word!" he answered. "It's a lie!"
There is baneberry, whose very name sufficiently describes its dangerous nature. There are horse-radish, and stinging rocket, and biting wall-pepper, and still smarter water-pepper, and worm-wood, and nightshade, and spurge, and hemlock, and half a dozen other equally unpleasant weeds.
I says to myself 'Squire's seen somebody or something he hadn't no taste for! Why, you could read it on his face! plain as print. It was there!" "Well?" said Copplestone. "And then?" "Then," continued Spurge. "Then he stood for just a second or two, looking right and left, up and down. There wasn't a soul in sight nobody! But he slunk off sneaked off same as a fox sneaks away from a farm-yard.
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