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Updated: May 17, 2025
Spurstow, still watching Hummil, laughed lightly. 'I'll patch him up, later on. Is it too hot, do you think, to go for a ride? 'Where to? said Lowndes wearily. 'We shall have to go away at eight, and there'll be riding enough for us then. I hate a horse, when I have to use him as a necessity. Oh, heavens! what is there to do? 'Poker.
This I know, because I saw him walking much, and specially in the heart of the night. As Spurstow was arranging the sheet, a big straight-necked hunting-spur tumbled on the ground. The doctor groaned. The personal servant peeped at the body. 'What do you think, Chuma? said Spurstow, catching the look on the dark face.
'As far as I can make out, he died from oh, anything; stoppage of the heart's action, heat-apoplexy, or some other visitation, said Spurstow to his companions. 'We must make an inventory of his effects, and so on. 'He was scared to death, insisted Lowndes. 'Look at those eyes! For pity's sake don't let him be buried with them open!
The punkah was still being pulled over the bed, but Hummil had departed this life at least three hours. The body lay on its back, hands clinched by the side, as Spurstow had seen it lying seven nights previously. In the staring eyes was written terror beyond the expression of any pen. Mottram, who had entered behind Lowndes, bent over the dead and touched the forehead lightly with his lips.
'Take TWO pills, said Spurstow; 'that's tortured liver. 'The usually placid Hummil is in a vile bad temper. I'm sorry for his coolies to-morrow, said Lowndes, as the servants brought in the lights and prepared the table for dinner.
I thought it was my head at first.... Oh, Spurstow, for pity's sake give me something that will put me asleep, sound asleep, if it's only for six hours! He sprang up, trembling from head to foot. 'I haven't been able to sleep naturally for days, and I can't stand it! I can't stand it! 'Poor old chap! 'That's no use. Give me something to make me sleep. I tell you I'm nearly mad.
You're such touchy devils. Then, changing the note into one of almost abject entreaty, Hummil added, 'I say, you surely aren't going? 'In the language of the blessed Jorrocks, where I dines I sleeps, said Spurstow. 'I want to have a look at your coolies to-morrow, if you don't mind. You can give me a place to lie down in, I suppose?
At the last moment Lowndes was seized with scruples of conscience. 'Ought you to read the service, from beginning to end? said he to Spurstow. 'I intend to. You're my senior as a civilian. You can take it if you like. 'I didn't mean that for a moment. I only thought if we could get a chaplain from somewhere, I'm willing to ride anywhere, and give poor Hummil a better chance. That's all.
There was no further speech for a long time. The hot wind whistled without, and the dry trees sobbed. Presently the daily train, winking brass, burnished steel, and spouting steam, pulled up panting in the intense glare. 'We'd better go on on that, said Spurstow. 'Go back to work. I've written my certificate. We can't do any more good here, and work'll keep our wits together. Come on.
Edmunds, who, as we all know, refused a bishopric when offered him, and whom, therefore, at any rate, his adversaries must allow to have been sincere; Thomas Young, Matthew Newcomen, and William Spurstow. To this reply was given the name of Smectymnuus—a startling word, as Calamy calls it, made up of the initial letters of these names. This work, which was published in 1641, gave, says Dr.
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