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Updated: June 8, 2025
Youghal said she was not going to throw her daughter into the worst paid Department in the Empire, and old Youghal said, in so many words, that he mistrusted Strickland's ways and works, and would thank him not to speak or write to his daughter any more. "Very well," said Strickland, for he did not wish to make his lady-love's life a burden.
But Strickland insisted, and was going to say something when Fleete interrupted by declaring in a shamefaced way that he felt hungry again. Strickland sent a man to my house to fetch over my bedding and a horse, and we three went down to Strickland's stables to pass the hours until it was time to go out for a ride.
The old woman can take care of thy children, and Tiare will be glad to have thee back." "Thou art my man and I am thy woman. Whither thou goest I will go, too." For a moment Strickland's fortitude was shaken, and a tear filled each of his eyes and trickled slowly down his cheeks. Then he gave the sardonic smile which was usual with him. "Women are strange little beasts," he said to Dr. Coutras.
Strickland, from his own high room, waking in the night, saw the loophole slit of light. He felt concern. The change that had come to his old pupil was marked enough. Strickland's mind dwelt on the old laird.
Robert Strickland's innocent biography that it is difficult to avoid feeling a certain sympathy for the unlucky parson. His decent reticence is branded as hypocrisy, his circumlocutions are roundly called lies, and his silence is vilified as treachery.
"When the Government pay is not sufficient, and low-caste men are promoted, what can an honest man do?" he replied, in the very touch and accent of Imam Din, and Strickland's eyebrows went up. "You talk too much to the police, my son," he said. "Always, about everything," said Adam, promptly. "They say that when I am an officer I shall know as much as my father." "God forbid, little one!"
It is obvious that there was much in the commonly received account of Strickland's life to embarrass a respectable family. I have read this work with a good deal of amusement, and upon this I congratulate myself, since it is colourless and dull. Mr. Strickland has drawn the portrait of an excellent husband and father, a man of kindly temper, industrious habits, and moral disposition.
Tietjens caught the man as he was crawling into Strickland's tent with a dagger between his teeth; and after his record of iniquity was established in the eyes of the law he was hanged. From that date Tietjens wore a collar of rough silver, and employed a monogram on her night-blanket; and the blanket was of double woven Kashmir cloth, for she was a delicate dog.
But Tibbie Ross was wild to get away early and to the village with the news. By the foot of the hill she began to meet wayfarers. "Oh, aye, this is the real weather! Did ye know " Alexander did not leave home that day. In their old work-room he listened to Strickland's account of his stewardship. "Strickland, I love you!" he said, when it was all given.
There, as is notorious, he spent the last years of his life; and there I came across persons who were familiar with him. I find myself in a position to throw light on just that part of his tragic career which has remained most obscure. If they who believe in Strickland's greatness are right, the personal narratives of such as knew him in the flesh can hardly be superfluous.
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