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Updated: May 17, 2025
'Whatever it was, he's clear of all the trouble now, said Mottram softly. Spurstow was peering into the open eyes. 'Come here, said he. 'Can you see anything there? 'I can't face it! whimpered Lowndes. 'Cover up the face! Is there any fear on earth that can turn a man into that likeness? It's ghastly. Oh, Spurstow, cover it up! 'No fear on earth, said Spurstow.
'Call this a dinner? 'I can't help it. You don't expect a banquet, do you? Throughout that meal Hummil contrived laboriously to insult directly and pointedly all his guests in succession, and at each insult Spurstow kicked the aggrieved persons under the table; but he dared not exchange a glance of intelligence with either of them.
If Bishop Hall, when he first saw the treatise, and perceived its literary ability, "blushed for his age" that so "scandalous" a thing should have appeared, and if even Howell the letter-writer, in his prison, thought it the impudent production of "a poor shallow-brained puppy," what could Milton's orthodox and reverend Smectymnuan friends Marshall, Calamy, Young, Newcomen, and Spurstow think or say about it?
My father sent it out. It's rather amusing. 'One of those vestrymen that call 'emselves M.P.'s again, is it? said Spurstow, who read his newspapers when he could get them. 'Yes. Listen to this. It's to your address, Lowndes. The man was making a speech to his constituents, and he piled it on.
'Oh, you lucky, lucky devil! he whispered. But Lowndes had seen the eyes, and withdrew shuddering to the other side of the room. 'Poor chap! poor old chap! And the last time I met him I was angry. Spurstow, we should have watched him. Has he ? Deftly Spurstow continued his investigations, ending by a search round the room. 'No, he hasn't, he snapped. 'There's no trace of anything.
As they were settling into their places about the miserable goat-chops, and the smoked tapioca pudding, Spurstow took occasion to whisper to Mottram, 'Well done, David! 'Look after Saul, then, was the reply. 'What are you two whispering about? said Hummil suspiciously. 'Only saying that you are a damned poor host. This fowl can't be cut, returned Spurstow with a sweet smile.
As a sponge rubs a slate clean, so some power unknown to Spurstow had wiped out of Hummil's face all that stamped it for the face of a man, and he stood at the doorway in the expression of his lost innocence. He had slept back into terrified childhood. 'Is he going to die on the spot? thought Spurstow. Then, aloud, 'All right, my son. Come back to bed, and tell me all about it.
An increase of the epidemic kept Spurstow in camp among the coolies, and all he could do was to telegraph to Mottram, bidding him go to the bungalow and sleep there. But Mottram was forty miles away from the nearest telegraph, and knew nothing of anything save the needs of the survey till he met, early on Sunday morning, Lowndes and Spurstow heading towards Hummil's for the weekly gathering.
In the silence after the storm he glided from the more directly personal songs of Scotland, half humming them as he played, into the Evening Hymn. 'Sunday, said he, nodding his head. 'Go on. Don't apologise for it, said Spurstow. Hummil laughed long and riotously. 'Play it, by all means. You're full of surprises to-day. I didn't know you had such a gift of finished sarcasm.
'No. Can't sleep. That's worse. 'By Jove, it is! said Mottram. 'I'm that way every now and then, and the fit has to wear itself out. What do you take for it? 'Nothing. What's the use? I haven't had ten minutes' sleep since Friday morning. 'Poor chap! Spurstow, you ought to attend to this, said Mottram. 'Now you mention it, your eyes are rather gummy and swollen.
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